Identity Crisis
by Sheep the Adventurer
Summary: One arrogant, self assured Goblin King, add a sudden Identity Crisis and a stressed out Sarah...It could be a recipe for disaster.
1. Chapter 1

Identity Crisis

Chapter 1

At one point in everyone's life, they feel certain confusion. A certain angst. Some call it puberty, some may call it midlife crisis but the irrefutable fact is, everyone has it. So why Jareth King of Goblins thought he was exempt from it was anyones guess (although a few thought it related to the fact he was immortal, therefore mid life really didn't apply). Even Goblins had it, admittedly, the only real reaction was to curl up in a corner looking pathetic and then five minutes later be dancing happily with a chicken. Some called them fickle.

So anyway, Jareth had never had any sort of life crisis. He had always been comfortably reassured in himself, even in puberty when even some of the Fae suffer from crippling self doubt in god knows what. No, he breezed through it, confident and as arrogant as ever. Although the Goblin King wasn't really one for brooding on the dark passions in his soul, he was more for kicking a hapless goblin (of course, they weren't harmed, they were remarkably bouncy and could be placated quickly within a few songs) for stress relief. He was one of those curiously happy people, as long as he had a few goblins to kick and his tight pants.

However, like chicken pox, the odd affliction of self doubt and torturous thought patterns is always lurking. And, like chicken pox, gets worse as you get older. As Jareth had lost count of his age, that could never be good. Instead of suffering a small case of it through adolescence, and learning the guitar and wearing eyeliner (although he had donned the eyewear- possibly more through simple vanity than any urge for rebellion, as it was in fashion at that time in the revels), it had waited for Jareth, it had watched, and it had finally come for him.

Jareth, Goblin King, was having an Identity Crisis.

And that could never be good.

* * *

It was going to be a good day today, Sarah knew it. It just had to be, there was no way anything could go wrong. The day itself was beautiful, the sky was blue and the sun was shining. She sighed, despite all this; she knew something would go wrong. 

It was the universal law known as Sod's Law.

Sighing, she hitched her bag up to her shoulder and stepped delicately down the front steps of her apartment building. The day was crisp, and if not exactly warm, it was not really too cold either.

Humming tunelessly, trying to shake the ominous feeling, she began to walk to her workplace. As she walked through the autumn coloured park, some dry leaves flew up in an odd wind in an ominous way, and an old swing creaked ominously as it swung ominously. She paused and frowned, something was definitely ominous.

Taking a deep breath, she carried on walking and tightened her coat around her. She was jumping at shadows, as if she were reverting to the childhood habits. She laughed nervously for no particular reason, and then realised she must have sounded rather insane to the elderly jogger who frowned at her as she walked along, her eyes fixatedly creepily somewhere a few yards in front of her, laughing quietly to herself.

She frowned, she was entirely sane. The rest of the journey to the office continued without interruption. She worked as a psychiatrist, her desire to understand the human mind being provoked by an intense dream-like experience she had had at fifteen. Which couldn't possibly have been real, at all, she thought, _at all._

She barged in the door with none of her usual grace, swept past MissDenny the Secretary-who-is-ridiculously-nice, past her colleague Bob, to her sanctuary, the coffee machine. She poured out some coffee and sighed gratefully as if the entire worlds problems had been solved overnight.

Bob sidled over "You okay?" he asked carefully. Sarah smiled and held up her cup "Coffee." She said simply.

"Ah." Replied Bob coherently. "Miss Denny thinks you hate her, by the way, she's sobbing in the toilets."

Sarah frowned "What did I do?" she asked confusedly.

Bob sighed "You didn't say good morning." He said solemnly. Bob was one of those nice people who understood everything, which was why he was a good psychiatrist.

Sarah sighed "Does she want coffee?"

Bob cleared his throat "Maybe you should, you know, go apologise."

Sarah gaped "I haven't done anything wrong!"

Nonetheless at Bob's gently insistent hints, and then him physically pushing her out the door of the staff room in the direction of the toilets, she went.

She found Miss Denny's cubicle quickly enough, as it was he only one with someone weeping loudly. There was somebody sniffing forlornly in another one, but Sarah was well-acquainted with Miss Spume's release of pent up emotion.

"Miss Denny?" Sarah enquired softly, knocking on the charmingly coloured salmon pink door.

The weeping stopped abruptly, then continued again with more fervour. The sniffer, evidently feeling the lack of attention, redoubled their efforts. Sarah ignored them "Miss Denny? I'm not angry, I just had some very important…things on my mind. Miss Denny?" It was silent was more – except for the person sniffing disconsolately.

"You…don't hate me?" the hesitant voice asked. The door opened a crack, and the bright eyes of Miss Denny showed. It was her first job after college and she was still quite nervous about her job. Plus being one of the most sensitive people alive, though Sarah aggrievedly.

"No I don't, in fact I like you." Sarah said soothingly. Miss Denny zoomed out of the cubicle "Oh thank you!" sheexclaimed happily, giving Sarah an impromptu hug. Sarah nodded with a tired smile.

She followed Miss Denny out of the toilets and disappeared into her office. She really felt anti-social this morning, which was kind of bad as she worked as a psychiatrist. Kind of people-orientated.

She sighed and sat back in her chair, closing her eyes. She relaxed, and that would explain why she fell out her chair when a smooth voice said…

"Hello Sarah."

Jareth, appearing for the second time in Sarah's life after ten years, had been prepared for a few responses.

A)"My God Jareth! It's been so long!"

B)"My God Jareth! I love you! Lets have hot monkey sex!" (This one was more doubtful, but a Goblin King could hope.)

C)"Jareth! You can't have my little brother!"

There were a few hundred other case scenarios he'd thought up in his spare time. However none had prepared for her falling out of her chair and spilling coffee on his trousers. _Hot_ coffee.

He almost shrieked but managed to stifle any such un-masculine urge. He leapt up and with a quick flick of his wrist dispensed of the hot liquid on his tights. He sighed, feeling tried, and looked up. Sarah was gaping at him and seemed only capable of starting incoherent protests of denial. He cleared his throat and tried to regain any semblance of dignity. He smiled devilishly. "Hello again."

* * *

Please tell me what you think (i.e. REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW)! An insane idea I know...but hey. 


	2. Chapter 2

Identity Crisis

Chapter 2

Sarah blinked. It was the only thing she could do apart from the basic functions of living. Blinking was good, blinking required very little brainpower, which was a good thing as most of her brain was engaged in a severe case of denial.

Jareth was beginning to look a little bored, and began examining the office disinterestedly. He checked back to Sarah, nope, still just sitting there –blinking. He heaved a heartfelt sigh.

Sarah blinked pointedly one last time, then, for no particular reason he could see, she began to do paperwork. She suddenly just looked down and began flicking through some papers. If one listened very closely (which the Goblin King was doing, being too baffled to think of that), she was muttering feverishly to herself 'Not real, not real, not real…'.

Now, Jareth liked to think of himself as a modest sort of guy (the majority of his general acquaintance would disagree – but Jareth didn't care about them, they were beneath him), but he rather thought he warranted _some _sort of reaction. It was his turn to blink bemusedly.

And so it was, the next few minutes passed fairly uneventfully, with Jareth blinking and Sarah working determinedly. Jareth really felt quite put-off by this reception, her screaming and throwing things might have been marginally better. Sarah however, was doing a good job of ignoring everything apart from the paper in front of her, even managing to block out the various sighs of boredom from the not real –definitely absolutely completely not real – Goblin King figment of her imagination.

Neither was the fact that he was scaring the fish in her aquarium at all real, nor that he had just started juggling with the apples in the fruit bowl, humming slightly. An absent thought that her imagination was being strangely active today popped into her mind.

There was a knock at the door which was immediately followed by Miss Denny balancing several folders in a precariously high pile. She tottered in and by some miracle managed not only to get in the door but not drop any of her burden (the resulting bad luck caused by this extraordinary piece of good luck meant a large piece of wood fell on an unfortunate goblin named Wendle). She beamed at Sarah and was almost hurt by her not noticing when she suddenly saw Jareth. Then she dropped the folders (Wendle found a penny in a sudden reversal of luck). She blushed as she bent to pick up the folders under Jareths neutral stare. "H-hello." She stuttered, she supposed him to be one of Sarah's clients (although she could swear she'd not seen him go in), maybe a traumatized former actor. He smiled at her and she was reduced to a blushing stuttering wreck.

Sarah looked up to see Miss Denny giggling nervously in the general direction of the figment of her overactive imagination (who was smirking wickedly).

"Are you okay?" she asked, perturbed.

Miss Denny looked confused, as Sarah seemed to be totally ignoring her client. "I'm fine! I'll just leave you two to it." She said in a high voice, dumping the files.

Sarah frowned "What did you say?" she questioned sharply. Miss Denny suddenly looked on the verge of tears. "Just that I'll leave you two- "

Sarah stood up with a screech of her chair, staring at Jareth. Who stared back. Miss Denny, feeling slightly not-stared-at, looked at them both. Then Bob walked in, to make things even more complicated. He wasn't really staring, more glancing around confusedly. Evidently he felt that too many cooks spoilt the metaphorical broth, and sidled back out again.

Miss Denny blinked when he exited, joining the new fashion with aplomb. "Miss Denny." Said Sarah evenly "Could you give us a minute alone please?" she said in a tightly controlled voice.

Miss Denny exited, and tried to ignore the screaming and the sounds of items being thrown.

* * *

Jareth was being pensive. This rare occurrence happened with the same regular appearance of flying pigs (the airborne porcine were currently doing loop-de-loops somewhere in the state of Illinois). After Sarah had decided to start throwing things, Jareth had shortly afterwards decided to pull a disappearing act, leaving Sarah to look mournful about the breakage of her favourite paperweight – and of course question her sanity. It really wasn't fair (he had decided to use the phrase despite his early contempt of it). He had returned after seven years to see her and firstly she ignores him and then throws things at him.

He was in his throne room, sitting –surprisingly enough – on his throne. It made him feel that bit better, like a small boost to his fragile mindset at this point (having an Identity Crisis did do that to one). He was the Goblin King. The Goblin King had just come dangerously close to pouting.

His depressive mindset showed no sign of abating. A goblin timidly approached, trying to look kickable, and maybe cheer up the unusually morose king and maybe get a song out of it. The goblin (called, oddly enough, Beb) began dancing around a bit, still trying to evince a kickable vibe.

However, his quick bout of interpretative dance failed to make the king want to kick him. Beb began to feel very concerned.

Beb scuttled off to the rest of the goblins in the square outside the castle, who were looking worried. "No go." Squeaked Beb. Another goblin, named Erb, shook his head "Crap." He said feelingly. Beb, evidently thinking the time had come for him to step up their efforts, jumped on top of a nearby conveniently podium-shaped rock, "Goblin friends!" He cried "Our King must be saved, therefore, I declare we must do it! Who's with me?" The Goblin populace who had turned up, roared in approval. And so, SOCK was formed. Save Our Cheerless King.

* * *

That was the next chapter! Please review!

And thanks and much gratefulness to reviewers.

In celebration, my muse Algiers will dance.

Algiers: No I won't.

There you go.


	3. Chapter 3

Identity Crisis

Chapter 3

It was a dark and stormy night…in Timbuktu. Therefore it was not important and not to mention completely unrelated. In fact, the day was rather sunny, with a light breeze.

However, for Sarah, the day might as well have been dark and stormy. Her favourite paperweight was broken (and she was questioning her sanity, of course). Bastard, he would definitely pay for that, plus for disturbing her notions of reality and normality. But, _the paperweight_.

Bob wandered in and sat down gingerly, careful not to make very much noise. Very much reminiscent of how one would act around an exploded bomb, or someone with a gun. Happily, Sarah was armed with neither of these, but boy, did she have a temper.

He watched Sarah as she stared fixedly at the pitiful remains of her broken paperweight, sniffing slightly.

"Do you…" he ventured "Want to talk about it?" he questioned tentatively. Sarah looked up. "I liked this paperweight." she said mournfully. Bob sniffed "It was a nice paperweight, yes." He sounded very much like he was humouring her. As a peace offering, he set down a new paperweight.

He shifted "Who was that man?" he questioned (the notion that maybe the present was bribery occurred to Sarah) "I didn't recognise him." Sarah looked up, ready to give a piece of her mind about that infuriating Goblin King. "He's a sexy insurance salesman from Ohio who enjoys long bubble baths!" she blurted out instead. Her eyes widened "He has a pet dog called Frisky- eeek!" She covered her mouth and looked horrified. Bob b– didn't blink, he gaped.

Therefore, he did what any self-respecting person would do. "Riiight." And then he ran out.

Sarah watched him go. "Huh."

"Who is he? He looks stupid." a nonchalant voice sounded behind her. She gasped and whirled round "Not again!" she said dismayed.

Jareth grinned at her and sat down on the leather coach. Sarah buried her head in her hands "You know, I liked being sane." She muttered. However, it came out more like "Mmmf mmf, m mmf mff mmf". As Jareth wasn't conversant in this, he ignored it.

Jareth poked a model of the human brain on the table next to him interestedly, he looked marginally guilty as it fell to the floor.

Sarah looked up "Would you _please _stop destroying my office?" she snapped at him. He was about to retort that she was the one who insisted on throwing things as him, then he saw the dangerous look in her eyes.

She paused, and took a few deep breaths. She opened them again "Right, I'm going to hypothetically say that you aren't a figment of my imagination. Why are you here?"

Jareth sniffed "Hypothetically? Hm." He looked offended. Sarah sighed deeply "Alright, you are real. Why are you here?"

Jareth stood up with great dignity "I take it you are a human mind healer?" he asked, aloof. Sarah nodded slowly "I suppose you could call me that. Not that I'm setting such a great example." She looked out her office to Bob and Miss Denny looking worried and casting concerned looks at her office, they kept consulting a book named 'Nervous Breakdowns and how to spot them'. Her shoulder devil (called Jim) prompted her to jump out of her office and shout "The gerbils! THE GERBILS."

Jareth stood in the middle of her office and watched as Sarah seemed to stop concentrating (she was, in fact, imagining gerbil related scenarios, but he wasn't to know that). He cleared his throat imperiously; her eyes flew to his face startled. "Excuse me?" she said with a sheepish smile.

He inclined his head regally "I would like you to heal me." Sarah stared for the second time that morning, "You want…" she said finally in weak voice "Me…to help…you?"

Jareth was beginning to doubt Sarah's brain power. "Yes." He said patiently.

"Oh." Said Sarah, leaning back in her chair, bemused. "Please, take a seat." She said in a professional voice, that only trembled slightly.

Jareth sat down, and then suddenly there was a quiet knock at the door. "Come in." said Sarah ina voice of weary patience. Bob and Miss Denny appeared in the doorway, looking slightly shocked at the scene of devastation that was Sarah's office. Sarah followed their gaze "PMT?" she said weakly.

Their eyes snapped back to her "Sarah," began Bob carefully "We like to think that we're your friends…" Jareth was looking highly entertained at this point, being unnoticed.

"…And so we care for your welfare." Continued Miss Denny. This was beginning to sound rather rehearsed, thought Sarah sourly. Bob took a deep breath "Maybeyou'dliketotakeaweekofftosortyourselfout." He said very quickly, and then tensed as if in anticipation of something being thrown at him. Jareth almost felt sorry for him.

Sarah had had dangerously narrowed eyes, but then at this last sentence, looked thoughtful. She hadn't actually had a week off for a long time, and maybe she could try and escape (as she had subconsciously started calling Jareth) 'That Man'. "Yeah…" she said slowly (Bob quietly relaxed and Jim made a comment that she should throw something anyway, her shoulder angel (called Kim) frowned and threw a harp at Jim). "Yeah," continued Sarah "I think I will."

Miss Denny and Bob beamed "We can cope for a week!" Miss Denny said soothingly. Bob stepped delicately over a few broken shards of paperweight "Take the rest of the day off, watch a film, just relax and enjoy yourself, hm?" he said encouragingly, he patted her back gingerly. He looked confused on seeing Jareth "How did you…?" he said. Jareth shrugged "The window" Bob nodded slowly, like one would do to someone a few branches short of a tree.

Miss Denny and Bob, evidently feeling they had done their duty, beat a hasty retreat. "By the way, when I tried to say earlier who you were…You ended up being an insurance salesman." Sarah began. Jareth looked smug.

"So I can't talk about the Underground, huh?" Sarah sighed. Jareth nodded, pleased that she wasn't a total loss.

Sarah remembered trying to tell her parents why her room was a mess when she fifteen after her run in the labyrinth. Rather than being able to say about her Underground friends, she'd ended up grounded for a week after saying she'd had a wild party with lots of boys and alcohol. They hadn't been best pleased. She stood and wandered around her office.

Jareth, meanwhile, was thinking. "You have the next week off, correct?" Sarah nodded absently. "So," he continued "You are free…" Sarah nodded again, not listening. He stood up, looking wickedly gleeful "Excellent." Sarah was leaning back against her desk, with her arms crossed, looking pensive. Jareth took her arm and she looked up, startled "Hey-" she began, but was cut off by Jareth. "You can come with me then." He said briskly. Then they disappeared.

Bob wandered in "Hey Sarah, I was wondering how – Sarah?" he asked an empty office.

"Huh…" he said to no-one in particular.

* * *

Can ice cream go off? I think I just ate gone off ice cream.

To all reviewers, Algiers and I would like to say you are lovely lovely people.

I am considering a side story of sorts called A Day in the Life of Wendle the Goblin- Yay or Nay? (That bit isn't part of the title)

And if this chapter is bad...blame it on the ice cream. And then hunt down Algiers.

Algiers: ...Fool.

We love each other really.


	4. Chapter 4

Identity Crisis

Chapter 4

"I hate you. I _really _hate you."

Sarah was surprisingly calm. Or rather, relatively calm, in that she wasn't throwing anything. However, in context, this was not surprising, considering the only things in the near vicinity were chickens and goblins.

Jareth was slouching regally (it was possible, in rare cases, for that to happen), with a lazy smirk on his face. Sarah had already mentally decorated his face with a few bruises. There were several goblins standing around in various states of shock (one had even frozen in the act of picking his nose- not a favourable first impression for Sarah). However, the chickens weren't too bothered, they were just pecking around. Like chickens do, really.

Sarah considered slapping him, but considered the consequences. He would probably catch her wrist with ease, resulting in sexually charged moment where they would stare deep into each others eyes. Maybe provoking an impassioned kiss. But then she decided; she was _far _too angry for that. Transporting her to the Underground without as much as a by-your-leave, and destroying her paperweight, and the murder of several innocent bunny rabbits (Sarah was very angry, therefore slightly exaggerating his crimes). Jareth had been watching her slightly worriedly, having incurred too much physical punishment since their initial meeting to interpret her warlike aspect as anything but bad news. But the decision had been made, the verdict set in stone, and the sentence to be carried out immediately. Hence, she kicked the great Goblin King's shins.

His eyes widened and with some effort, he said in a stable, if hoarse voice "Would you _kindly _stop trying to grievously injure me?" He clasped the injured appendage, grimacing. The goblins, meanwhile, were valiantly coming to their king's defence by standing still in abject shock at his beating. All but Wendle, who was reflectively finishing his interrupted task of rather thoroughly cleaning his nose. Sarah was quite satisfied, she was a reasonable person, and had decided his injury was enough. She calmed herself with effort

"Now," began Sarah with dignity, looking as if she had relived herself of a great burden. "We can speak like civilised…" She trailed off, unsure of how to continue. "Anyway," Time to bring in her eloquent persuading skills "Take me home."

Jareth hobbled over to his throne and sat down, rubbing his abused shin sourly. "I'll make you a deal. Stay here for a week, and then you can go home, provided you manage to cure me." He said directly.

"And if I don't?" Sarah was standing in a typical 'Don't mess with me – or you'll get things thrown at you' pose, or hands on hips.

"You stay longer." Offered Jareth, still very much aware of his throbbing shin and not very focused towards at all caring much about her feelings.

Sarah tapped her foot on the floor "You expect me to stay _here_?" As if 'here' was a goblin infested, ramshackle castle with no running hot water, which…it was.

Jareth stared at her for a second as if saying '…what's wrong with it?' Sarah stared back, evidently thinking Jareth had maybe been a bachelor for a wee bit too long (or at least, she secretly hoped so). All she said was "Oh boy…"

"Look," she finally said, after a one minute deliberation "What exactly is wrong with you?" The room went silent, the goblins finally looking up. Jareth glared at them, and made a menacing kicking motion with his uninjured leg. They took the hint and started copying him.

"Oh for…" he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Out!" he shouted, frustrated. They wandered out at their leisure, some even taking time to throw in a relaxed yawn.

Sarah watched "And so the fearsome Goblin King prevails." She remarked dryly.

Wendle had just quietly gone to sleep in the corner.

"So," continued Sarah "How do you feel?" she asked brusquely. Jareth sighed and rubbed his forehead tiredly. He looked evenly at her for a moment.

Sarah pursed her lips, aware that it was not going to be so easy getting the Goblin King to talk about his feelings. The image of her patting the Goblin King on the back while he sobbed about his neglected childhood blinked out of existence.

"I…" he said finally. Sarah had to wait a good few more minutes before he continued. She began to feel a little bored. It seemed Jareth had more issues than a magazine stand.

"I feel very confused, as if I don't know who I am." He said with a final effort.

Sarah sighed heavily.

"Oh God…An Identity Crisis."

* * *

"Erb, please read out what we, SOCK,have decided so far." Exclaimed Beb. Erb sniffed "We need to help the King." He said abruptly.

The goblins discussed this. After an hours meeting, it seemed very little had happened. However, as goblins weren't exactly the brightest of creatures (a dim light bulb most likely had more thought process), they had made good progress.

Suddenly, a breathless goblin burst onto the scene. He (he seemed to bea heanyway- despite the dress) skidded to halt dramatically. "The Girl is here!" he shouted.

The tense moment was ruined by one goblin questioning "…Who?"

Beb rolled his eyes "You know!" he insisted "The one who beat the Labyrinth!"

Beb, it seemed, was the Einstein of the organisation. A chorus of understanding sounded.

"So, er, whats that to do with anythin'?" questioned Semsi.

It was to be a long meeting.

* * *

Me again. Thanks for all reviews! It makes me want to write……

Algiers: Blackmailer.

Anyway, the ice cream seems to have had no side effects. Hope this is an okay chapter. A Day in the Life of Wendle is coming on slower than expected. Mainly due to the fact that I have no idea what a goblin actually does…Ideas welcome.

Please review :)


	5. Chapter 5

Identity Crisis

Chapter 5

Sarah was feeling pensive. She was pondering on the fickle nature of stability. She was wondering if the coffee bean existed in the Underground. She was speculating on how to explain to a goblin that, she indeed did not really want to sleep on the floor, even with the added encouragement of a free chicken the goblin had offered.

In another world, another life, that goblin may have made a great second hand car salesman.

However, as it stood, the goblin was watching Sarah patiently. She began to feel a little awkward. She wondered if there were indeed any bedrooms, she might as well start simply.

"Um…" she started hesitantly. "Bed?" she continued in a tone of voice commonly used for small children and by tourists to inhabitants of their chosen holiday destination. That is, slow and big on the enunciation. It was lesser known fact that it was used was by the Lombardy Enunciation Appreciation Club (LEAK) as a means of communication and recreation.

However, this was all beside the point. Although the point, in itself, was fairly hazy for both the goblin and Sarah. Sarah was contemplating what she had done wrong to deserve such a fate, while the goblin was contemplating the word 'bed'.

As such, Sarah had ten minutes more to contemplate on how she had got into this situation, while the goblin came to the conclusion that he was standing next to a bed. After her successfully diagnosing the Goblin King of Mental Distress, he had abruptly summoned a goblin to show her the sleeping arrangements. It seemed he was a little preoccupied, as goblins were only usually entrusted simple tasks such as childcare and being kickable. Confused, the goblin had led her to a relatively clean piece of floor (the key word being 'relatively' as it was liberally covered in chicken droppings).

The location wasn't all that great either, being in the middle of a staircase (thankfully the only one in the nearby vicinity and the right way up). The goblin (called Icarus Dainzaiger Wumpful, 'Icky' for short) appeared to consider it a prime piece of real estate.

Sarah entered the fray valiantly once more (continuing on in the vein of the battle metaphor, she had roughly the same chance of success as a blind, unarmed pensioner wielding a magnet of surviving in a gunfight).

"Bed." She said in a tone which LEAK would afford a gold star. She started making hand movements, which was never a good sign.

Icky chortled with delight and clapped his little fingers "Guessy! Guessy! Icky loves guessy!"

The goblin equivalent of charades, games were usually very short. Mainly due to a short concentration span than any particular magnificent guessing power.

"Big? Large, bigger than Icky." she nodded, and made a wide span with her hands.

Icky wore an expression of great concentration. It took a further five minutes of gesticulating for Icky to hazard a guess. "Goblin King?" he ventured.

Sarah returned to safe ground, blinking. A vague expression of worry crossed her face. "Big…?" she said falteringly, half to herself.

Icky was referring to Jareths height, just for clarification.

Sarah shook her head "No…Flat, soft?" she continued (the odds had been reduced to the same chance of a barn door surviving in the middle of gunfight).

Icky looked blank, "Goblin King?" he repeated.

Sarah passed a hand across her brow, reseigned to defeat. "Right."

The goblin smiled and trotted off, motioning for Sarah to follow. With a sigh and roll of her eyes, which indicated a laissez-faire, I-don't-care-I'm-stuck-in-a-hole-in-the-approximate-middle-of-the-Underground-which-shouldn't-exist attitude.

Okay, maybe she did care.

Icky was skipping along cheerily, Sarah following sulkily. He led her to a relatively light passage, which appeared to be slightly cleaner. Slightly.

He pushed open an intricately carved door into a darkened room. Sarah wandered in after him with trepidation. Her eyes widened.

"A bed!" she gasped (a small part of her brain thought how incredibly odd it was that she was overjoyed to see a bed – it was consequently stifled by the larger part going 'A bed. A BED!')

Without even bothering to check where she was, she thanked Icky cheerfully, and collapsed on the bed. She closed her eyes and was almost immediately asleep. It had been a long day.

* * *

The Goblin King was feeling peeved. He had had really had quite a shitty day. Apart from the whole Identity Crisis (it warranted capitals), he had been physically abused by Sarah, mentally abused by Sarah and…

He gave up, he didn't want to be more depressed. He was still in the throne room, moodily juggling five crystal globes with ease. He sighed, it didn't seem to matter to the Identity Crisis that he had a kingdom, bona fide magical powers and devilish good looks. It had still got him.

He needed sleep, he decided. Getting up and dispelling the crystals, he concentrated briefly and appeared in his room. It was quite dark, as it was late. Jareth flicked a casual hand towards the fireplace and cosy fire roared into existence. Feeling weary after a long day and several restful nights, he lay down on the bed.

Not noticing there was somebody there already.

He fell asleep.

Several hours later, he awoke in the dark. The fire had gone out, and the room was very dark. He tensed, it appeared someone or something was clasping his neck and seemingly invading his personal space.

Widening his eyes, he conjured a crystal and it emitted a weak light. It revealed a dark haired woman lying next to him. He suddenly developed a silly smile (which was still pretty darn cool).

Jareth decided he was dreaming, and in that case, it was perfectly fine to simply embrace her back. It wasn't as if he minded having Sarah in his bed, let alone hugging him. With a peaceful smile, he drifted back into the realms of unconsciousness, cancelling the crystal.

It was a very good thing for Jareth that Sarah was in a deep sleep. At least, for a few hours more.

* * *

Sarah was in that pleasant place between sleep and waking. With her eyes still closed, she snuggled into the nice warm person.

It took a few moments for the thoughts to process in Sarah's sleepy brain. Which could be roughly translated into…Mmm, warm, nice, sleep good…..PERSON!

Her eyes flew open and widened comically. Apart from noticing that it was indeed a nice neck that she had her face in, she realised she was very close to said neck.

It took another minute for her to notice all of the following. She was hugging someone, she was in a bed, that someone was hugging her back and that someone was _Jareth_.

And that he looked extremely sexy when asleep, but that was beside the point.

Yes…Beside the point…

Sarah mentally shook her herself out of it and gave herself a few mental slaps to be sure (Stop SLAP that SLAP Stop SLAP that). She quickly thought through the options…

A)Scream, and wake Jareth up – awkward.

B)Quietly extricate herself and run away, far away – cowardly.

C)Pretend to be asleep – boring.

D)Snuggle further into that nice neck - …damn hormones.

After a bit of thinking hard on these points, she decided on Option B. She began to try and subtly wriggle out of the Goblin Kings seemingly loose grasp.

Seemingly. He was really quite strong, she discovered and most unwilling to let her go.

With a heavy sigh, she relaxed again, feeling hopeless.

Where was she anyway? She began to look at the surroundings. A weak light filtered in from behind the curtains, and she examined the room.

With a sudden shock, she realised where she was. His room. All the décor had his name written all over it (not literally, obviously, even Jareth's ego had limits, albeit very loose limits). The room was a deep blue in colour, with dark green furniture. She decided to blame Icky for this mess. She was tired, and all she wanted was a bed. How was she to know she was going to his room?

She sighed again.

His eyes opened and locked with hers.

She blurted out the first thing to come to mind.

"It was Icky's fault."

* * *

Ah, the awkward situation... I may be a sadist...Heheheheh...

Anyway, this chapter is a little longer...I think.

Now the romance is introduced...Kind of...I'm not very good at it.

Thanks to reviewers (:breath: snip-snippet, mord-sith rahl, Draco's Daughter, Jibiathon, Angela Scarlet, Lady Cobweb, Lady of the Labyrinth and Solea - lovely people :))I shall now proceed to answer some questions...:Ahem:

Lady of the Labyrinth: I am very sorry for the geographical mishap. It shall be changed... I blame Aristocats (the butler gets sent there...? Ah the strange workings of my mind). Andthe castledoes have running water...magic conquers all, even plumbing.

And thanks for all the suggestions for Wendles daily habits! Its coming along...if slowly...oh so very slowly...

And the obligatory...Please review!

Sheep the adventurer, author of an obscenely long authors note.


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer:I don't own the Labyrinth, but I want a goblin!

Identity Crisis

Chapter 6

"It's a flaminga."

"No, you idiot, it's a chicken."

"Flaminga!"

"Do you mean a flaming_-o_?"

"Yes, I win!"

Beb sighed and considered banging his head continuously against a stone wall to maybe knock free a few brain cells, so he could be as carefree as the rest of his kin. The chicken in question regarded them both for a second and then clucked decisively.

Wendle, meanwhile, had forgotten their intellectual debate and was wandering after the aforementioned chicken chuckling "Flaminga! Flaminga!"

Beb sat down heavily, maybe he could borrow one of the biting spears and chase Wendle around with it, laughing maniacally.

Kip wandered over and Beb almost groaned, now he was chasing two goblins in his daydream. Kip sniffed "SOCK doesn't seem very successful. What have you done so far?"

"He's a bit better." Beb replied, vaguely defensive. Kip was the kind of goblin who could only be compared to the guy next door who walks over to your new car and casually mentions his new Mercedes and several detailed reasons why your car, and ultimately you, are inferior. Simply known as the kind you want to shoot, and then dance a merry jig on their bloodied remains.

And Beb badly wanted to do that.

Kip examined his small nails "A few of us have set up another committee, you know, we call it 'Rescue of the King's mental wellbeing'. ROTK for short. We've already started on our policies, cleaning the castle, and such. What about you?"

Beb pondered on the wisdom of telling Kip to shove ROTK up where the sun don't shine, but knowing Kip, he'd probably use it as propaganda.

Beb sighed "Its…a secret." He said lamely.

Kip looked victorious "Ah well then, we'll see how that makes him feel better."

At that point, Jareth wandered in, looking dazedly happy.

Beb almost danced "Ah," he said with satisfaction. "It worked."

Kip's expression was worth all the chickens in the Underground.

"FLAMINGAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!"

There was a squawk, and a crash. Kip lay dazedly on the floor, while Wendle clambered up over him to continue his chase of the elusive…flaminga.

Beb almost wet himself laughing.

* * *

The room was surprisingly clean, once she had shooed out the chickens (the castle seemed to have a serious infestation). Sarah sighed and sat down on the bed. She finally had one, at least. It took her a moment to collect her thoughts (she had had a traumatic morning – at least that was what she kept telling herself, over and over and over…).

Her thoughts (her desperate attempts at contemplating the weather flew out the window) drifted back to the (traumatic) morning.

After her blame of Icky (who, unbeknownst to her, had shortly after received his own chicken), she had apologised and practically sprinted out.

However, she had soon regretted her hasty decision as she very soon became very much lost. All of the corridors seemed to share the same characteristics of being dusty, dark and dank, with chicken poo (the creatures seem to have explored the castle expressly to excrete everywhere).

In an embarrassing turn of events, she had had to start calling for help. Jareth had appeared, highly amused. This resulted in a grumpy Sarah who maintained she was too mature to sulk, but seemed to be evincing all the symptoms.

She had her own room, at least now.

However, she had no spare change of clothes (Jareth obviously didn't think these ventures through, even though _he _always had a regular change of clothes) and no toothbrush.

She felt like crying.

Jareth's mental wellbeing could wait, a girl needed her modern amenities and she needed them _now_.

With that righteous thought in mind, she marched to the throne room (she knew the way, she marked it on the walls with lipstick). However, her strong words shrivelled and died in response to the scene that greeted her.

It was hell, in short.

In a slightly longer version of events, it was several goblins chasing chickens around shrieking something like 'flaminga' while another goblin laughed his ass off. In the middle of the floor a highly affronted goblin (who oddly reminded Sarah of her neighbour with the Mercedes) was dusting himself off. The Goblin King was watching the scene with an amused grin.

He seemed to be the only thing faintly resembling sanity in the proverbial madhouse (albeit in tight pants), so she wandered over to him.

"Um, what the…?" she questioned.

He looked up, caught off guard, still smiling. Sarah stared, suddenly getting the irrational urge to giggle inanely.

_Must not…giggle…inanely…_

Fighting the urges, she tried to rescue the last vestiges of her earlier argument. It came out something like "Um…I need a (giggle) clothes and (giggle) spare pair of toothbrush."

Sarah did a quick mental playback and almost groaned. She tried to cover up her mistake while not looking at his bemused expression "I need somethings like a toothbrush and some more clothes." She said quickly.

He looked a little less confused. "A toothbrush? Oh right."

He absently handed her something and switched his attention to the goblins, who were patting a harried looking chicken while cooing 'flaminga'.

Sarah frowned at the object in her hand "Um…a papaya?" she questioned.

He turned back to her "Hm. Not good." Jareth said musingly.

From experience, Sarah knew that maybe wasn't good.

"My magic seems to be becoming unpredictable, must be something to do with the Identity Crisis."

"Ah."

A pink flamingo exploded into being next to them.

There was a slight pause as the goblins gazed at the bird for a moment. Then…

"CHICKEEEEEEEEEN!"

* * *

Hello again. Apparently review responses are no go now… But thanks everyone. It seems that there was a mixed response to the infamous 'bedroom' scene (which sounds a lot dodgier than it is). Heheheh. 

Obligatory please review!

Sheep the Adventurer

Review:)


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

The flamingo looked startled for a moment and then took flight out of a nearby convenient window. The goblins watched with a distraught expression and then with a synchronised cry of 'CHICKEN!' they shot out of the throne room through the nearest door, leaving a few pitiful feathers floating in the air behind them. Wendle was a bit slow on the uptake and took a flying leap out of the window.

Unfortunately, evolution hadn't seen fit to provide goblins with wings.

There was a distant cry of 'Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeh' and then a thud.

Sarah was standing stock-still staring wide eyed in shock. Jareth stood up and patted her on the arm "He's fine." He remarked conversationally"Goblins are wonderfully bouncy, even from this height."

Sarah decided not to ask how he had gathered this piece of information.

She tottered over to the window and saw Wendle gathering some dandelions while singing hideously out of tune. She presumed that meant he was fine, and that he had absolutely musical talent at all.

A nearby vase, which had managed to survive the goblins and various other assorted dangers for vases in the Underground (including the feared 'Vase Eaters') for a whole sixty years, a fact which the vase had been very proud of. That is, until it was turned into a passion fruit by a stray outburst of Jareth's magic (which seemed to have a fruit fetish).

Sarah decided to do something before she was turned into an apple (what she didn't know that was his magic was contemplating a peach for dramatic irony).

Her plan was simple but brilliant.

"Can't you do anything?" she asked a perturbed looking Jareth.

He mused for a moment, while random objects changed into various types of fruit around them. "I know." He announced suddenly, then in a quick motion, grabbed her arm, and disappeared.

They appeared on Sarah's bed in the Aboveground. Sarah positioned on top of him in a rather comprimising fashion.

From the narrowing of Sarah's eyes, Jareth knew he had to think fast. "Unstable magic…" he said mournfully. Damn, well, maybe it would happen one day. He could hope.

Sarah got up with difficulty, and examined her room "Here? Does it stop your magic or something?" she said, attempting to change the subject.

Jareth was reclined on the bed, in a manner reminiscent of how a sleeping cat would sprawl after being dropped unceremoniously on a bed.

"It dulls the effect, yes." He muttered. Her yellow polkadotlampshade began making a slow transformation into a sloth.

At his lachrymose answer, Sarah looked at him. "You sound…a bit….depressed." she said haltingly "Want to talk about it?"

He glanced back with a cynical smile "I don't know who I am, my magic is getting wild,I'm depressed,my throne may be in danger…"

"Why?" interjected Sarah.

Jareth frowned "There was once a King named Colvin, he went mad and created the Bog of Eternal Stench as a holiday destination. He eventually turned himself into deaf frog."

There was a moment of silence as the information sunk in.

"Ah." Said Sarah eloquently. She resisted the temptation to ask howhe knew it was a deaf frog, she had sneaking suspicion the answer wouldn't make any sense anyway.

Jareth nodded "You see my point." He heaved a heartfelt sigh and sat up.

Sarah sat down next to him gingerly, and hesitantly put her arms around him loosely. His eyes widened "Um, what?" He questioned.

"Shut up, it's a hug."

He shut up.

* * *

"Feel better?" asked Sarah, as she pulled back.

"A bit." He replied, and was about to suggest that she carried on hugging him and he would feel even better when she stood up abruptly.

"Hungry?" she asked brightly and walked out of the room. He heaved a disappointed sigh.

Jareth shivered suddenly as he felt he was being stared it. He exited the room, not noticing the lampshade had eyes.

Eyes that were eying up the pot plant on Sarah's windowsill.

Sarah, meanwhile, had suddenly felt the need to make scrambled eggs, feeling fairly buoyant. Maybe because she was back home, or she had just hugged the Goblin King (her inner teenager wasscreaming 'OH MY GAAAAWD!').

Jareth was watching silently, leaning against the worktop, watching the process of making scrambled eggs. "What are you making?" he asked curiously.

Sarah glanced up with a radiant smile "Scrambled eggs, on toast!"

Three eggs, two rounds of toast and bored Goblin King later, they had their meal. Sarah began eating, Jareth tweaked his gloves and picked up the fork.

He looked vaguely bemused at what to do with the sloppy ensemble that she called scrambled eggs, on some blackened pieces of what formally had been toast.

It would be worth mentioning that Sarah was hardly a master chef. She had difficulty with breakfast cereal.

He put down his fork and leant back. At her enquiring look, he smiled weakly "Not hungry."

After satisfying her first pangs of hunger, she looked up, her fork balanced between her fingers.

"So, out of interest, how old are you?" she asked casually.

His eyes flickered back to her, from where he had been candidly observing his meal.

"Its different for the fey." He said vaguely.

Sarah raised an eyebrow (it was a decent effort, but nothing compared to Jareth's eyebrow raising, he was revered across the Underground for his eyebrow raising). "Ashamed of our age, are we?" she asked teasingly.

"No."

He looked deep in thought. She waited and looked slightly worried.

"One thousand six hundred and…two." He said finally.

To say that she was surprised would an understatement, more like downright shocked.

"Wow." She managed.

Jareth looked back at his meal, he was sure it had just moved.

With an awkward smile, she stood up. "I'm just going to have a shower. You can amuse yourself for bit, can't you?"

Jareth nodded absently and she disappeared into her room. Suddenly a scream came from her room and he teleported in immediately.

"What?" he questioned urgently, to apale looking Sarah.

"There's ayellow polkadotslotheating my pot plant…" she said weakly.

"Ah, right."

* * *

Urgh...so tired...

But I suppose thats not important. Thanks to all reviewers! They make me want to write! ... :)

Shameless? Who? Me?

As ever, review! I presume you've already read it if you're reading this...

Sheep


	8. Chapter 8

**Identity Crisis**

Chapter 8

Sarah and Jareth were at a loss. Jareth had finally asked the vital question. Or, the slightly less vital question than asking for her hand in marriage, or to bear his children. Or to take out the rubbish.

"When – and how- am I going to be cured?"

And quite simply, Sarah had no idea. They were sitting at the table (having both quickly and unanimously decided to just shut the bedroom door and leave the sloth to its meal).

She leant back thoughtfully. Jareth looked glum, while somehow managing to look moody and cool. Some people have all the luck.

"Well, I suppose I could try and remember the symptoms, from when we learnt about it class…"

"_And today we're going to learn about what is commonly known as an Identity Crisis, most people turn to their psychiatrist to help them through. What we can do is this…blah blah blah I am boring blah…"_

She vaguely remembered starting to draw a fiery menacing the teacher, who could have won awards for the perfect monotone of his voice. He had even sung in monotone, he'd made Christmas carols sound like funeral dirges.

However, none of this was particularly useful in her present condition.

"Well…" started Sarah. "I'm not sure."

His look would have defeated a lesser creature, and possibly sent them into therapy.

As it stood, it made Sarah feel pretty annoyed.

"Well, Mr Smarty- and coincidently rather tight- pants, why don't you think of something?"

After a quick self conscious glance at the aforementioned pants, he replied acidly "Well I wasn't aware I was the mind healer in this case."

"Well, you, you…" started Sarah indignantly "You…" she finished rather lamely.

Jareth's smug look showed he was quite conscious of that, _thank you_.

"Hm." Said Sarah stiffly, standing up. "I'll look in one of my old textbooks."

She disappeared into another room for a few minutes. During which Jareth entertained himself by rolling an apple back and forth between his hands, which he seemed to find highly amusing. Even omnipotent Goblin Kings can have their simple pleasures.

Sarah returned carrying a large book, after casting an obligatory worried look at Jareth, who had been making a sound dangerously close to giggling.

He saw her and hurriedly cleared his throat and put the apple back with great solemnity.

With a wry smile Sarah flicked open the textbook, murmuring to herself.

"Ah here. Symptoms."

"I thought we were perhaps clear on the fact I am having an…Identity Crisis."

"Self-questioning? Daydreaming?" she asked, glancing at him. She paused when she saw him staring out the window vacantly. "Ah." She muttered.

In actuality, Jareth was really just very bored and contemplating sending her to the Bog of Eternal Stench, or maybe just ask her to explain the fundamental principles of the universe to a goblin.

Sarah continued reading and her eyes widened and she said faintly

"Greatly decreased or increased sexual desire and sexual affairs, especially with someone much younger."

Jareth looked back at that. "Is that a proposition?" he asked hopefully.

Sarah glared and blushed, which was an odd combination, like an annoyed tomato.

Jareth thought it was charming.

"Ah wait!" cried Sarah after an awkward moment had passed. "It has some advice here! Um, '_Set new goals which are both realistic and exciting. Try new things: a sport, hobby, or class at the local college'_. Ah, uh…does that help?"

Jareth's expression was Not Impressed. At all.

Sarah looked down again with a shrug. "Then I suppose 'Spend special time each week with your children' isn't relevant either." A thought occurred and she turned slowly to Jareth "Is it?" she said slowly.

Jareth grinned inwardly "Well…" he started with great deliberation.

He enjoyed watching her discomfort for a few moments (some said he was a sadist, however, they smelt so badly since their little trip to a certain bog, that no one came close enough to hear) but then he shook his head "No, no children." He saw her look relieved, _at least, I hope not_, he added inwardly.

Thankfully, Sarah couldn't read minds.

Sarah continued on "Here's the last one: 'Accept and share your feelings. Aging is inevitable, but decline is not. With acceptance, you can allow yourself to grieve losses. By sharing your feelings, you can relieve fears and frustrations.' Sounds like a dodgy horoscope by Mystic Bob…" she finished musingly.

"Is that all that can be done?" asked Jareth contemptuously. Sarah nodded meekly.

"Hm." He said, looking formidable.

Sarah seemed to realize this and patted him on the back hesitantly.

"When Bob had a minor Identity Crisis…He bought a Mercedes." She said absently.

Jareth looked mildly interested "A Mercedes?"

That was the exact moment when Sarah realized she had just made a Big Mistake.

* * *

"I can't believe you are making me do this!" hissed Sarah to a content Goblin King. He shrugged and smiled airily at her.

Sarah rang the doorbell with a face on that could sour milk (Bob would have an unpleasant surprise when he made his evening cup of tea).

The door was answered by a surprised and slightly concerned looking Bob "Sarah?" he questioned, puzzled.

A shrill voice sounded from somewhere in the house "Robert! Who's at the door!"

He leant back slightly "A colleague, darling! And," he paused and stared at Jareth as if it was difficult to focus "A sexy Insurance Salesman from Ohio! Who enjoys long bubble baths!" he shouted again. He stopped and looked slightly dumbfounded at what he just said.

He shook his head and composed himself "What a pleasant surprise! How are you enjoying your week off?" he asked politely.

Sarah was tempted to say casually "Well, I've been transported to a place where the main population is goblins and chickens, they have no toothbrushes and they can't tell the difference between a chicken and a flamingo." But instead settled for "Oh great, just been sorting out the garden and odd things like that. It been……..relaxing." she finished with a grimace.

If Bob noticed, he certainly decided against inquiring "Are you sure? You kind of look like you've been transported to a place where the main population is goblins and chickens, with no toothbrushes and they can't tell the difference between a chicken and a flamingo."

Instead, he said "Ah good. So why are you here?"

Sarah shifted uncomfortably "CanIborrowyourcar?" she asked quickly.

* * *

Ah, Chapter 8. It was finally wrung out of me. Please do review if you like it, they make me want towrite :)

This may be a slightly different style of chapter, as I am attempting to get back to the plot, which is an indistinct creature and had temporarily ambled off somewhere.

I blame my muse.

Leave nice reviews! I want to be cheered up after a weekend of intensive walking, when usually the only exercise I do is when forced with a pointed stick (Run damn you::poke poke:)

Sheep the adventurer, who is not guilty of emotional blackmail on any level.


	9. Chapter 9

**Identity Crisis**

Chapter 9

If she was honest with herself, Sarah had never thought much about death. Sure, in the teenager 'Oh-god-does-life-mean-anything' way but not seriously. She only really imagined maybe a peaceful death as an old woman after a long and fulfilling life.

However the likelihood of her ever reaching old age was steadily decreasing as the speed gauge zoomed upwards.

Jareth, in short, was a speed junkie.

Her hands gripped the sides of the leather side, her knuckles slowly turning white. She turned her wide eyes onto the Goblin King, who had a feral smile plastered on his face, while his hair was fluttering wildly and his booted foot was firmly jammed on the accelerator.

The country lanes whizzed by in a blur, and tears streamed from Sarah's eyes. The midafternoon sun blazed down on the dry road. "Too…fast!" she croaked out with difficulty.

"What's that?" shouted Jareth back, with an insane grin.

Sarah had met plenty of mentally disturbed people in her line of work, however, she had never been in a very fast car with one. She very much afraid she might just be speeding to a premature death. A small voice inside her mind wailed 'I'm too young to dieeeeeeeee!'

That gave her the impetus to fairly screech "TOO FAST!"

He winced, and inadvertently took his foot off the accelerator. The car slowed. Slightly.

Sarah's grip relaxed, slightly.

"Can we stop for a bit?" asked Sarah in a hoarse voice (it had, after all, been a rather loud screech. And probably would have scored a perfect ten in a screeching competition for serious volume, outrage and sheer chutzpah).

Looking exceedingly reluctant, Jareth pulled into a lay by. He looked like the baby who had just had his candy stolen. Sarah felt irrationally guilty, like she had stolen candy from a baby or something.

After Bob had agreed, Jareth had wandered off to the car while Sarah continued to thank Bob. As soon as she had got into the car, Jareth had decided he had worked it out and the car squealed off. Not an auspicious start, or one that would have given her time to explain that red means stop.

"Look," she started patiently "Do you even have a license?"

Sarah decided his completely blank look was not reassuring.

Jareth shrugged "It is in fact very simple. What is the license for?"

Sarah looked at him from pinching the bridge of nose "Being able to drive." She said dryly.

Jareth pondered this, and decided it was silly. He was Goblin King and therefore he could drive if he so wished.

However, what Jareth didn't know was that the police often weren't very convinced by this protest. ("But I'm the Goblin King!" "Yeah, and I'm Bob the Builder, here I'm taking you to hospital.")

"Has it helped at all?" asked Sarah suddenly "I mean, with the Identity Crisis."

Jareth mused, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel.

"Hmm. I think I shall have to drive some more to find out." He said primly. He set off, and Sarah screamed "I think I forgot to tell you about speed limits!"

Jareth suddenly had selective hearing.

If the Goblin King wanted to do something, he wasn't about to be stopped by a pesky mortal, and if that was drive at ridiculous speeds, then so be it.

Amen.

* * *

Dusk was beginning to fall when Jareth realized the car needed something called fuel, and when Sarah was close to heart failure. 

The car pulled over again and Jareth sighed in satisfaction. Sarah sighed in abject relief, she felt the need to jump out of the car and kiss the sweet staying-in-one-place ground. She didn't, however, as her legs were too weak from the aftermath of adrenaline rush to even attempt movement.

"Jareth?" she said feebly "Please promise me you will never, _never _drive again?"

He looked slightly crestfallen "You're not at all harmed are you?" he pointed out snappishly.

"I am mentally!" she retorted. She shook her head "Ok, review the situation. You stopped because we're running out of gas? Do we even know where we are?"

Jareth leant back infinitesimally as if looking out of the window he could somehow miraculously find out where they were by studying the tree next to them.

It was nice tree, but not very geographically useful.

Shit.

Sarah was rubbing her eyes. "Can you teleport us back?" she asked tiredly.

Jareth looked uncomfortable "Well, us, yes. I cannot transport the car; however, as it has no inner magic I can work with."

Sarah imagined herself trying to explain that. "_Well you see Bob, your very expensive car is stranded somewhere in the middle of nowhere as it has no inner magic._" She really should stop having imaginary conversations with Bob in her head, she thought absently.

"How much gas is there left?" inquired Sarah frostily, feeling like a teacher interrogating a pupil who'd forgotten their homework.

Jareth lounged in the seat, looking like the sulky pupil. "I saw an inn a few minutes back," Sarah privately wondered how the hell he had managed that, all she could see was a blur "There would be enough to get there."

She sighed heavily "I suppose it will have to do. I sincerely hope that helped or I will very annoyed."

Jareth smiled gently that was without his usual cynicism. "I think it did." He said softly.

Sarah decided she wasn't so grumpy anymore.

However it did bring up the issue that Jareth seemed to have been helped by an inanimate object rather than talking about his feelings. He certainly was unconventional.

* * *

Wendle was bawling his eyes out. He was full on weeping and rather loudly too. He had been doing it for quite a while now too, thought Beb aggrievedly. 

He patted the other goblin on the back wearily. "What's the matter, Wendle?"

Wendle lifted his face from his small clawed fingers, his bulbous eyes shimmering with tears. He looked contemplative. For the next ten minutes. At least he had shut up, reflected Beb.

"I don't know." Said Wendle finally, a smile lighting his features. "Yay!" he leapt up.

Beb grinned, relieved. "Well that's good, you know, we all have to pull together now the King's gone away for a while…"

Wendle's face was almost comically distraught, and Beb had just enough time to curse before…

"WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!"

* * *

Ah, I love the goblins. They rule. Thanks very much for the reviews! I was very happy when I returned from three days of walking through bogs which I possibly think may have been the inspiration for the Bog of Eternal Stench. AND I got a cold...Anyway, enough about me!

Anyway please review! Its always nice to hear what people think:Sees the plot starting to wander off again:

Damn. Come baaaaaack:Hobbles off after it:

Sheep the adventurer, in an unnecessarily rambling mood.


	10. Chapter 10

**Identity Crisis**

Chapter 10

"You want…to stay here. And have no luggage." The woman narrowed her eyes at Sarah. "Are you even married?" she asked, leaning forward.

Sarah took an unconscious step back from the extremely creepy lady. She was sounding more like a suspicious mother than a hotel receptionist.

Jareth was, of course, having nothing to do with the whole affair and was candidly inspecting a plant.

Sarah sighed aggrievedly "Yes, we want to stay here. Our luggage is in the car. We're not married. Now," she said with great patience "Can we have a room?"

The large woman looked completely shocked, as if somebody had just told her that she had just lost all of her earthly belongings in a very concentrated earthquake, or something like that.

"What?" she asked, scandalised "One room? And unmarried? Doris, did you ever hear such a thing?"

A diminutive woman next to her, with large glasses that magnified her eyes until she resembled some sort of nervous bug, shook her head devoutly. "No, Mabel."

The former woman returned her full, disapproving, gaze on Sarah. Sarah threw her hands up in despair "A twin room!" she cried.

"A twin room, she says." Mabel muttered, Doris sighed sadly.

Sarah stared and spinning round turned to her companion "Jareth!" she said pleadingly.

He looked up, as if he were an innocent bystander, completely unrelated the current situation. Which, considering the amount of effort he had exerted, he was. But it has to be taken into account, Kings do delegate menial tasks.

Well, Jareth thought it was a decent excuse anyway.

However the deadly look Sarah was giving him convinced him that maybe it was his manly duty to step in, or something similarly dignity saving.

He stepped forward towards the desk under the identical stares of Mabel and Doris with a charming smile.

Sarah was watching with an expression that could have been likened to the fatalistic face made by someone watching a victim go to execution.

"Ladies," he began, still smiling a killer smile. Doris began to soften almost immediately.

Like butter on a hot summers day.

"Can we have a room, or if indeed you disapprove, two please?" he asked smoothly.

Mabel tried, she really did, but in the end it was just no use.

"No, no! One is fine! What kind?"

They were putty in his hands.

Sarah looked vaguely aghast as Jareth sauntered past her and jingled the keys. "Coming?" he asked smugly.

Sarah followed muttering darkly about snooty Goblin Kings and how unfair life was.

And yes, she was aware of the irony of that.

She shook herself mentally and caught up with Jareth who was strolling casually in the direction of the stairs. They went up to the second floor.

"So did you get the twin? Sorry I couldn't get two singles, I'm not exactly a millionaire. Although technically this is your fault so you should be paying…" Sarah was musing on this point when Jareth stopped abruptly "This is it, I think."

He smiled at her again. Sarah had known him long enough to know that, however breathtaking, that smile meant trouble.

_Trouble_.

* * *

"My Lady?" Sir Didymus's voice echoed magnificently in the empty throne room. Which was noticeably…empty.

The crew of friends looked at each other in confusion. "Well, I wasn't expectin' that." Said Hoggle thoughtfully.

"Sawah?" questioned Ludo.

Sir Didymus trotted in the centre on Ambrosius "Where art the goblins?"

A slightly harassed looking goblin wandered in from the other entrance, rubbing his eyes. He noticed them and looked startled "Um…hello?"

"We are seeking the Lady Sarah." Spoke Didymus grandly.

Beb sniffed "Ah, she's gone with the King we think."

Hoggle looked vaguely bemused. "I thought she was back 'ere. And where's the King? What's goin' on?" he asked.

"The King hasn't been himself recently…then he brought the mortal back for a bit then they both disappeared. Everyone's been in turmoil since. The chicken's have been so upset they've been pooing in one place!" said Beb, in a stressed tone.

"Oh good god." Whispered Hoggle.

"Stwange." Agreed Ludo.

Sir Didymus put down the melon he had been examining "Why is there such a large amount of fruit, my good goblin?"

Beb sighed and sat down "The King's magic went haywire."

Hoggle mused "They probably gone to the Aboveground then."

There was clicking sound as Wendle entered the throneroom, he smiled vaguely at them.

Beb suddenly looked very nervous "Don't mention you-know-who." He hissed quietly, staring at Wendle as if he was a bomb of some kind.

Hoggle blinked "What? You mean the King-?"

Wendle lost his smile, and started to sniff disconsolately as a prelude to the big explosion. "Oh God…" whispered Beb.

He ran over to the other goblin "Calm down, Wendle! No, no don't start!"

Taking a quick glance at each other, the valiant three decided unanimously to retreat.

Valiantly, of course.

They exited the castle just as a loud bawl almost shook the foundations.

The three sat down on the steps by the Da'al Urai Fountain, translated literally as The Fountain of Dwarves Relieving their Bladders.

"What if Sarah's in trouble? We should help her, she's still our friend, right?" said Hoggle helplessly.

"I agree, I think we should help." Said Ludo reasonably. After a slight pause, he noticed the shocked stares of his friends, "Sawah friend?" he supplied meekly.

Hoggle and Sir Didymus shook their heads and silently agreed not to ask.

"Yea verily," began Sir Didymus "If the Lady is in danger, it is our duty to save her."

And so, the valiant three set off to the Aboveground.

* * *

"Jareth…" said Sarah warningly into his smiling face. He unlocked the room deftly and quickly pulled her inside.

Sarah stared around her "This is double!" she cried furiously "Did you-?" she began, but was cut off as Jareth grasped her wrist and pulled her into an embrace.

He was still smiling, with an odd expression in his darkened eyes.

"Jareth, I…" Sarah said breathlessly, still trying to hold onto her anger, looking up into his face.

"Shut up," he said in an amused tone "Its called a kiss."

She gasped, and unsurprisingly, shut up.

He bent down and Sarah shut her eyes…

"My Lady!"

"Sawah!"

"Sarah, we're here to save you!"

* * *

Mwahahaha! I just KEEP torturing the poor bastards...

Thanks for the reviews! I REACHED 100! I recieved many concerned looks when I danced around singing 'Yay a hundred!' like a hyper Wendle.

Thanks to Safrawr, Juniper87, Heist, Solea, Mcfly85 and Draco's Daughter for the reviews last chapter! I decided that thanking people wasn't the same as responses, so, thanks!

Review, or I'll send Doris and Mabel after you...

Sheep the adventurer, a pretend pascifist.


	11. Chapter 11

**Identity Crisis**

Chapter 11

To say Jareth was angry was an understatement; to say he was mildly irritated would be an outright lie. To say he was furious would be a lot closer to his real feelings.

His thoughts were running along the lines of 'Oh, they are going to suffer SO much pain...'

Sarah, however, was amazed at the reappearance of her friends and so had rushed forward to greet them. Jareth stood behind her, his eye twitching occasionally.

"Oh my God! I haven't seen you for so long!" Sarah cried joyfully, hugging them in turn.

Twitch, twitch, twitch.

Jareth wasn't possessive, per say, he liked to call it 'looking after his own'. This is can be roughly interpreted as 'ragingly possessive and rather dangerous when provoked'. This possibly explained why Hoggle had started to subtly push Sarah away to a safe distance on catching sight of the smoldering Goblin King.

In fact, Hoggle was having a small epiphany that maybe this wasn't such a great idea, or rather a very very _bad _idea.

However, Sir Didymus and Ludo seemed to be completely oblivious and were chattering on.

"My Lady! You have grown into a fine…lady! My Lady!" Hoggle could tell Didymus was getting emotional. The diminutive knight's single eye shone with emotion.

"Sawah!" said Ludo cheerfully.

"Er, guys." Said Hoggle quietly. "Guys!" he said a little louder. Nobody heard him.

"GUYS!" he finally shouted, and in the stunned silence that followed, his friends turned to stare at him.

He coughed awkwardly "Well Sarah! It was lovely to see you! Now I think we should be going now!" he started to try and drag his companions out of the room forcibly. "Now!" he repeated almost desperately as he encountered some resistance (namely Sir Didymus clinging to the door frame).

Sarah looked confused and a little hurt, while Jareth stood behind her looking threatening, and it seemed to Hoggle, mouthing 'Bog.' Maybe he was just being paranoid, he thought nervously. Just paranoid.

What he didn't know was that what Jareth had in mind if they didn't leave soon was _much _worse.

Goblin babysitting.

Sir Didymus was struggling out of Hoggle's grip "What are you doing?" he asked, outraged "We are here on a rescue mission!"

Jareth's eyebrow shot up "Oh really?" he said in a dangerously silky voice.

Hoggle clapped a hand over Sir Didymus's mouth "Crazy old fool!" laughed Hoggle tensely.

Sarah frowned "What's…going on?" she asked. "I don't need rescuing; I'm just helping out Jareth, aren't I?" She twisted round to stare at Jareth, whose frankly frightening smirk was immediately replaced by a look of gentle amusement. Of course, it switched back as soon as she stopped looking.

Sneaky.

"Thanks anyway, I appreciate your concern. We have so much to talk about!" she started forward again. Jareth frowned and Hoggles eyes widened.

"Gottogo,seeyousoon!" he babbled and nodded at Jareth. He complied graciously, sending them back to the Underground with a flick of his wrist.

"Oh…" said Sarah sadly "Do you think they're…annoyed with me? I did stop calling them…" She turned round and sat down on the bed.

Jareth sighed inwardly and sat down next to her "They had –er- reason why they had to leave so soon." He said soothingly.

"Its so hard though," continued Sarah, distracted, staring at her hands "To keep believing."

Jareth almost rolled his eyes, it appeared Sarah wanted to talk about her feelings.

"I mean, if I'd told anyone they would have sent me to an institution, and then you think…the whole world can't be wrong…" she spoke haltingly.

"Nobody blames you." Said Jareth gently. He put his arm around her "You did what you had to."

She looked up at him, for once betraying vulnerability "Really?" she asked softly.

Jareth stared down at her, _must not take advantage, must not take advantage…_

At this point, Jareth's own little shoulder angel and devil came into play. Mib and Jeb, as they were known, puffed into existence. Mib sniffed "Don't, she just need comfort right now."

Jeb (looking strangely exactly like Jareth himself) "Take advantage!"

It took Jareth very little time to think it through "Yes. I'm sure they understand." He said. Sarah smiled a watery little smile. "Thanks." She made to get up, but Jareth's hold stopped her. She sat down again with a thump "What?" she questioned.

His eyes had that odd look in them again. "This."

He kissed her.

It was a compromise, he reasoned.

* * *

Hoggle, Ludo and Sir Didymus materialized in mid air and landed in disorganized heap in the courtyard in front of the castle.

Sir Didymus sprang up angrily, facing Hoggle, every inch of his body trembling in righteous indignation. "Sir Hoggle? Please explain the meaning of this!" he barked.

Hoggle clambered up wearily (while Ludo wheezed on the ground – having been a soft landing for the other two).

"I'm sorry…But she was safe and the King…" he explained.

"What?" yipped Didymus, folding his arms and staring the dwarf down with his single eye.

"He was lookin' dangerous!"

Sir Didymus huffed "I dare say you were being over cautious."

Any further reply was cut off by a loud scraping dragging sound. The two turned round (Ludo was in the gasping stage of recovery) to see a tiny goblin pulling a large black box behind him.

They watched for a minute while the comically small goblin struggled with the box.

Sir Didymus walked over "Pray, what exactly are you doing?"

The goblin stopped for breath "Is a vo-teeeng box." He said proudly, pronouncing voting as if he had only heard it ten minutes before. Which, he had.

"Vo-teeeng?" questioned Sir Didymus, confused.

"Vo-teeeng." Nodded the goblin in affirmation.

"Yea but…what is it for?"

The goblin screwed up his face in contemplation "A for-mal expression of choice or opinion by means of a ball-ot. Vo-teeeng."

Sir Didymus looked plain flabbergasted at something so intellectual coming out of a goblin, while Hoggle had a vision of someone trying to teach the goblin that and feeling very sorry for them.

Meanwhile, Beb was beating his head repeatedly against a wall somewhere in the castle.

Bless.

* * *

The goblins system of democracy will be explained...next chapter! And more on Jareth and Sarah...next chapter!

Thanks to Safrawr, Solea, Mord-Sith Rahl, LODOWN, Ally, Kadasa-Mori, hm, kittykat, Lady of the Labyrinth, mcfly85 and goodmorningstarshine! Lovely people :)

Now to survive until the weekend...

Review!


	12. Chapter 12

**Identity Crisis**

Chapter 12

Sarah was finding it difficult to think clearly. It was if many different thoughts (most entirely out of her control) had decided to all shout in a raucous manner simultaneously while listening to very loud music (irrationally Yellow Submarine)

Her inner teenager was especially making things hard again – if it had over reacted before, it seemed close to spontaneous combustion. It was babbling over and over 'OH MY GAAAAAWD' and then was busy planning the names of the children (of which there would be four) and the colour of the curtains in the bathroom.

Sarah pulled back and smiled awkwardly, ignoring her inner thoughts screaming 'Think of the CHILDREN!' (and 'Wee all live in a yellow submariiiine'). Jareth looked at her, face inscrutable.

Her common sense (which had just recovered from the blow that yes- Goblin Kings really _do _exist, and yes Goblins really _are _that dumb and yes, a toothbrush _can_ be turned into a papaya…and many other things) piped up with all sorts of issues involved in a relationship (if there even was one, a nasty voice chipped in unhelpfully) with an immortal Goblin King. Her sense of romance was urging her to stop this silly business at once and get back to the kissing.

Sarah tried to explain, but it came out so fast that only sophisticated electrical equipment could have possibly slowed it down, and even then it made very little sense. At any rate, Jareth was baffled.

He displayed it in the usual fashion, by looking baffled and saying "Sorry?" in a baffled voice.

"Um…" Sarah said.

Jareth waited patiently and wondered when this odd feminine phase would pass.

"I have to…I…well…need to go the toilet. Yes, the toilet." She managed to get out finally.

Jareth wondered vaguely if this was some sort of mortal ritual. If it was, he really didn't like it. He tried to calm down '_Hogwig in a dress, Hogmin in a dress…'_

He only managed to successfully scar himself mentally.

Meanwhile Sarah had scooted into the nearby bathroom, which was a charming shade of an indeterminate brown.

She put the lid of the toilet down and tried to calm her thoughts.

It was rather like running into a mob and telling them to throw down their torches and pitchforks and sit down by the campfire to sing peaceful songs of love.

She splashed her face and tried again with marginally more success. Her thought process was something like this: "_Okay…We just kissed. Does this mean we can stay friends? Were we even friends initially? What is the meaning of life? He's immortal, I'm not… more problems. Is this a relationship? Does he even like me that way, or am I just a convenient outlet for his identity crisis? Oh God, this is way too complicated. I wish I was just a pineapple, things would be so much easier._'

And there was one more problem. She really, _really _wanted to kiss him again.

She made her decision and walked out of the toilet. Jareth looked up expectantly, reclining on the bed.

She took a deep breath and…fairly jumped on him.

So much for thinking things through.

* * *

"Beb! Or Kip! Or Sefa!" 

Cheering filled the courtyard, the goblin waved their stubby little arms (or in some cases, hefty arms) and cheered. The fact that half of them didn't know what they were so happy about was totally irrelevant.

Icky was a presenter of sorts, it appeared he had a flair for that kind of thing.

"Today we voteeeng for a…a…" he paused from his highly rehearsed speech and Kip hissed "Prime Minister."

Icky pondered that for a second. "A leader-y thing while the King is away!"

The crowd cheered again.

"Three ca…can…" Icky faltered, trailing off. "Candidates." Prompted Beb wearily.

Icky once again decided to improvise "Goblins! You need to voteeeng."

There was a prevailing silence, one goblin cheered but soon realized they were in a minority and stopped.

Icky cleared his throat "Voteeng?"

If crickets weren't huge carnivorous creatures in the Underground, and they were the small insects humans all know, they would have been heard very clearly in the silence.

Beb's eye twitched, despite explaining the concept (from a mortal book found in the throne room –maybe Jareth had had one of those days where you just _have_ to read about democracy) in detail, twice, it seemed they had managed to forget.

Beb sighed "This is useless." and rubbed his eyes tiredly.

Kip sniffed haughtily "It must be done. Who knows when the King will return?"

"Fish." Said Wendle brightly (he had followed Beb along for the ride)

Icky wandered over looking worried "What we do now?" he asked.

The crowd was conferring in hushed whispers, Beb doubted if any of the conversations were about the upcoming vote.

"What do we do now?" Beb asked, starting to feel a little stupid on the hastily built podium.

"Well, it appears voteeng didn't work." Said Kip in a tone of _I told you so_.

Beb's eye twitched again and he was about to push Kip off the stage when Icky suddenly spoke.

"Cheers!" he said with grin.

It appeared Icky had hidden depths.

"What?" questioned Kip contemptuously. Sefa just stood there, being another candidate.

Beb frowned "You mean…each of us should step forward at a time and the one who gets the most cheers…wins! Excellent idea, Icky!"

Actually Icky hadn't meant anything of the sort, but he liked to think he had.

Meanwhile at the back, the valiant three were looking shocked.

"So its true. Huh." Said Hoggle

"Ludo shocked." Ludo said, apparently shocked. Sir Didymus sniffed the air "They appear to be Goblins." He said, mystified.

"Summat strange is goin' on." Mused Hoggle.

A chicken clucked as the three looked very serious. "Mebbe…" Started Hoggle hesitantly "We should, yer know, try to find out what's goin' on."

The other two contemplated while sounds of wild cheering sounded from the courtyard.

"Yea…but would it be wise to interfere?" said Didymus reasonably.

While the three discussed what exactly the hell was going on, Wendle had just won an election.

Wonders shall never cease.

* * *

Has it been a while since I updated? I think it has. Apologies, I'm sure there was some sort of reason why I didn't...But having memory of a goldfish can have its drawbacks. 

Ah well, I shall blame the workload.

Please review! And say if you feel sorry for Beb...I certainly do.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

They both sat up at the same time, looking rather disheveled and out of breath. They almost spoke at the same time too.

Sarah said "My phones ringing." (it was rather hard to ignore as it was playing a jaunty tune at full volume) And Jareth said "Something calamitous just happened in my kingdom." (Possibly the election of a creature with less intellect than the aforementioned phone).

They both stared at each other, and decided that whatever it wasn't couldn't be _that _calamitous or _particularly _important.

Jareth threw the phone into the wastebasket for good measure.

* * *

Wendle sat on the throne, his short stubby legs swinging up and down and singing a tune (not in tune) about himself – which consisted of but one line 'Weeendle, Weeeendle…' and so on. More goblins were sitting in various places in the throne room, doing generally what goblins do.

Which isn't an awful lot -generally easily amused creatures, Goblins.

Beb was nowhere to be seen, which wasn't surprising as he had just sustained a serious shock. It was assumed he was drinking some soothing tea somewhere.

The valiant three stood at the doorway of the throneroom.

"Is…he wearing breeches?" asked Hoggle curiously, while Didymus pondered, Ambrosius needed the toilet, but Didymus was too busy pondering to notice. Ludo watched worriedly.

It was true, Wendle was wearing what could loosely be termed as breeches. They could also be called a sack, or a large piece of brownish material which may or may not be breeches. It seemed he was taking his duties seriously.

Hoggle shook his head "This is crazy." He said, as if by admitting it something might return to a semblance of normal. "What if a child gets wished away? That goblin –Wendle won't be able to do much!"

A goblin popped up behind up unexpectedly "That's Kind-of King Wendle if you please!" she said haughtily.

"Kind-of King…?" said Hoggle weakly.

She nodded vigorously "No real King, so we have Kind-of King." She explained, as if it made perfect sense.

She sauntered off into to throne room where the rest of the goblins were lounging.

Hoggle sat down "I'm in over me head 'ere. Didymus?"

Sir Didymus was shaken from his reverie by Hoggle enquiry, and the wet patch on the floor that was soaking into his trousers. Ambrosius looked innocent and simultaneously relieved.

Ludo spoke suddenly "Beb." He rumbled.

Sir Didymus pricked his ears "What a marvelous idea! Just what I was thinking, brother-in-arms! We should ask Sir Beb to act as a responsible party while we fetch the King!" he spoke enthusiastically.

Hoggle's eyes widened "I am not goin' back there!" he said emphatically.

Sir Didymus eyed him severely "Sir Hoggle," he started disapprovingly, which usually was the prelude to a long rant on the importance of brotherhood, courage with an overdose of thou.

Hoggle waved his hands defensively "Alright, alright! But I tells yer, its not a good idea." He finished darkly.

They trotted off in search of Beb. They first enquired with Icky who told them a long and rambling story about a pet flaminga he'd once had called Meb. They decided that probably had little to do with Beb and so enquired with Semsi, another goblin who told them the story of the fabled chicken that had once visited their land. It was perhaps their bad luck that they managed to ask two very stupid goblins when they passed quite a few reasonable goblins who could have told them Beb was in the oubliette of despair and oranges (a goblin had once found a stone in it that looked like an orange).

They eventually asked a goblin who did know and set off to the oubliette. The three (plus the goblin who had come along for the ride) walked through the corridors past the False Alarms, and tried to ignore their prophesies of doom.

"Lose weiiiiiiight! Before it is too late!" one said, and earned a glare from Hoggle which shut it up. Hoggle then surreptitiously sucked in his stomach.

Hoggle stopped outside a random wall. "This is the one." He sighed.

"No it isn't." a False Alarm put in smartly.

Before Hoggle got drawn into an argument Didymus walked forward and placed his paws on the wall. "Yea…but where is the door?" he asked gently.

Over the False Alarm saying there wasn't one, and that they would only find doom and misery and itchy palms, Hoggle banged suddenly on a part of the wall and a door swung open. "There." He said smugly.

Inside Beb was sitting against the wall just staring into the darkness. Sir Didymus wandered over after exchanging looks with his companions. "Sir Beb?" the knight said gently.

Beb looked up sourly "What? I'm trying to become dumb, or at least insane."

* * *

After a lengthy period of trying to convince Beb to look after the wellbeing of his fellow goblins (orat least stop them from blowing themselves up)- consequently failing and eventually resorting to bribery – they could finally made their way to Aboveground.

However, this time Hoggle was adamant about observing the polite practice of knocking.

"My LIEGE!" cried Sir Didymus while knocking heartily on the door.

There was a short pause.

"…Go away!"

The voice sounded distinctly like a certain Goblin King.

"Ok then!" Hoggle duly turned to leave but was prevented by Ludo's massive paw. He visibly sagged "I don't want to be Prince of the Land of Stench!" he whined.

However, Sarah opened the door, looking slightly out of breath "Guys!" she exclaimed in surprise. Jareth stood behind her, looking murderous. "What is it THIS time?" he snapped. If looks could kill...

Hoggle cowered, but Sir Didymus –as ever blissfully unaware – began a lengthy diatribe on the importance of duty, and honour (withfrequent tangents into serious thoughts on morality).

"My Liege…" he started grandly.

But Ludo interrupted "Wendle acting King." He said simply.

Jareth's eyes widened "Ah." Sarah stepped forward towards him, concerned.

But his worry seemed to evaporate and he grinned at her rakishly "Be back in a bit, there's gas in the car." He said cheerfully and gave her a parting kiss before she could protest (or indeed, throw things at him).

Sarah was left alone in the room, with only her phone ringing as company.

"Jareth…" she growled furiously. "Sneaky, good for nothing…"

The phone stopped ringing.

* * *

Took a while, this one. My muse Algiersran off with the plot, but they returned when tempted with mince pies.

Many thanks andmuch gratefullness TO: Solea, FUNNY, mcfly85, Kadasa-mori, LODOWN, Ridel, Mord-sith-Rahl, Midnight lady, Morrigana, goodmorningstarshine, sethra ri-senzo, luniepoo and the Shadow Hawk!

NEXT WEEK/MONTH/YEAR: Clash of the Titans between Wendle and Jareth, and who's calling Sarah?

Cue theme music.


	14. Chapter 14

**Identity Crisis**

Chapter 14

The phone was ringing again. Sarah patted the seat beside her furiously while glaring at the road as she pulled over.

"What?"

Sarah answered the phone with such ferocity that the person on the other line audibly whimpered and was no doubt cowering.

Sarah controlled herself with an effort and said in as pleasant a tone as she could (which still only amounted to sounding like someone pleasantly saying they were going to kill you slowly and painfully) "Sorry, yes?"

There was a pause, as if the other person was seriously considering to put the phone down and if Sarah would track them down anyway "…Sarah?"

She sighed inwardly, just what she needed, a paranoid Karen. She could almost see Karen reverting to her 'Oh God, my stepdaughter hates me' state of mind.

"Hey, Karen, you know, stressful day." She laughed tensely. The laugh sounded horribly close to hysterical.

Karen seemed to relax "Sarah, honey…" Sarah winced, those words meant a lecture. The contents of these lectures had varied over the years, from 'you should go out with people more' to 'I asked for _skimmed _milk, not _semi-skimmed _milk'. However, what Karen had managed to perfect over the years was a certain tone of voice which could _not _be blocked out.

It was halfway between a whine and a patient tone, with a dash of reproof.

Ouch.

"I phoned the office and asked for you, but then they said you had the week off – which I'm not saying is a bad thing – so I phoned your home phone but you weren't there. I phoned your mobile, and guess what? You weren't answering. So I phoned the office again and Bob said you'd driven off _in his car_ – which he wants back by the way – with an _insurance saleman_ from _Ohio_! And _how _do you think I felt? You could have been dead for all I know…"

Karen seemed to have gained confidence from her long speech and finally asked with a voice brimming with righteous indignation "Just _where_ have you been?" It was clear Karen had been very close to adding 'young lady' to that.

Sarah sniffed "I'm _fine_, Karen" _And twenty three,_ she added mentally. "And the…insurance salesman is an old friend from…school days."

"….Oh really?" Sarah knew as soon as Karen spoke, there would be trouble. Karen had been worrying about the state of Sarah's love life for a long time.

Sarah panicked, and that may have been a reason why she started to babble.

"Oh he's just gone back to – er- Ohio. Just now. Just dropped him off. To go back to his wife and children to –er – celebrate his…sixtieth birthday. Yes. Heheh."

"…YOU WHAT?" Karen all but shrieked down the phone, practically deafening Sarah.

"She – I mean – she."

"No, you didn't."

"I did."

"Well Bob said she was a he. Quite clearly." Said Karen frostily.

"Bob needs glasses, very strong ones, honestly I don't know why he hasn't been to the opti…"

She was cut off from escaping _that _easily by Karen.

"Come over for a visit, _now._" There was definitely a hidden 'or else' in that.

The line clicked off with a mournful beep.

Sarah swore with phrases that would have made a sailor blush.

It was just lucky that the car contained no sailor.

* * *

Wendle hiccupped and then laughed delightedly. He held up his clawed hand in front of his eyes and laughed again. 

All over the throneroom other goblins were in a similar state. That is, finding everything, including limbs, very funny. Although goblins are easily amused at the best of times, the surplus of hilarity seemed to indicate the goblins had found Jareth's secret stash of alcohol (which wasn't amazing, for a wily Goblin King, he had surprisingly poor hiding skills – the bottles were behind a curtain).

In short, the goblins had discovered what it was like to be well and truly sloshed.

Beb stood by the wall, sighing. He had returned from the oubliette to find his fellows giggling and drinking.

Looking on the bright side, it did keep them out of trouble, he supposed.

But it did mean, however, that Jareth's Grand Entrance did fall a little flat – as they all found it hilariously funny.

Hoggle, Didymus and Ludo glanced at each other in confusion. Jareth glared.

Although it was a very good glare and could have intimidated most people and even wilted small plants, the goblins were too oblivious to notice.

His eyes widened in realization and he laughed, half in amusement and half in exasperation. He shook his head and walked forward, ignoring the goblins that patted his ankles affectionately.

He reached the throne and stopped. Wendle stopped chuckling at the silhouette of his hand at the sudden shadow cast over him. His brow furrowed in confusion and his gaze wandered up to Jareth's face. Jareth rose an eyebrow "Boo." He said darkly.

Wendle screeched in shock and toppled off the throne. He wasn't hurt, conversely, he found it funny.

Meanwhile, without ceremony, Jareth sat on the throne.

"I'm back." He said simply. "And you," he prodded a giggling Wendle with his foot "Stole my alcohol store."

Beb blinked and finally ambled over to Jareth. "Welcome back, your majesty." He said mildly. "Sorry about the general drunkenness of your subjects."

Wendle burped as if to enunciate his point.

Jareth shrugged carelessly "I shouldn't have been away so long. I'm surprised that there isn't absolute anarchy. How did the genius here become acting King?"

Beb grinned sheepishly "Just trying out democracy from the book you left."

Jareth nodded absently and then noticed what Wendle was wearing.

"…Are those my breeches?"

* * *

Sarah knocked on the door with great trepidation. The early evening breeze blew through her thin jumper as she shivered. However, she didn't notice that as she was still busy blaming Jareth for everything wrong in the world. 

Karen answered the door primly "Sarah, you're here." She said, slightly surprised and relieved, as if Sarah might have been contemplating not coming (which she had been - seriously).

Sarah was about the answer when she stumbled back, put rather off balance by the young brother giving her a hug with a lot a momentum behind it. "Hey Sarah!" he said with grin. Sarah patted Toby's back as she concentrated firmly on breathing. "Hi Toby." She wheezed.

Karen opened the door further and Sarah limped in beside Toby.

"Oh, by the way, Robert's mother is here."

Sarah forced a fake smile on her face. "Oh yay." She said about as enthusiastically as a piece of wilted lettuce, that someone had stamped on- repeatedly.

She followed her stepmother into the living room with Toby chattering non stop all the while, then he suddenly went very silent.

Robert was sitting very straight on the sofa watching his mother –some might say – fearfully. The old woman sat regally at the end of the room in the most comfortable armchair, she noted their entrance with a sinister smile.

"Hello dear."

Sarah felt the irrational urge to hide under a blanket somewhere – far away.

_Very _far away.

* * *

Many apologies for the delay, a combination of writers block, exams, Christmas Shopping and plain laziness. One of the last few chapters for Identity Crisis I think! 

Anyway thanks to Kadasa-mori, mcfly85, LODOWN, luniepoo (I tried to make it longer! I sadly failed...) and Lady of the Labyrinth.

And a Merry Christmas to all!

(Read: If you review.)


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

Jareth was pondering again, and the flying pigs were touring the Orange County as he did so. Wendle sat at his feet, torn between wondering in an amiably vague fashion about why he had a god-awful headache and the option of vomiting on the King's boots. Some deep deep survival instinct in Wendle advised him that maybe the latter was a bad idea. He burped thoughtfully.

Jareth was momentarily shaken out of his reverie and carefully repositioned his perfectly clean boots away from the small goblin who was eying them in a highly suspicious manner.

While Wendle had been thinking (in the loosest meaning of the term) about his hangover, Jareth had been thinking about much deeper intellectual things. He was thinking about Sarah.

At one point or another, it came to The Think. Rather than just sticking with the no-strings 'let us merrily flirt and have a chemistry so tangible between us you could slice it up like bread', he was wondering what else there was. What Else.

However he was currently thinking how confusing thinking about that was and then thinking how terribly confusing it was he was thinking about his own thoughts. In short, he was very confused.

Therefore, he said "I'm confused." Out loud. Wendle, being the only other occupant of the throne room, looked up – mildly annoyed that the King was shouting very loudly into his poor pounding head. Jareth glanced down at the glaring goblin "Well, that's what happens when you drink copious amounts of alcohol." He said severely. He paused "That was _my _alcohol." He said rather bitterly, thinking he really could do with some strong liquor.

Wendle looked down again, regarding his paws miserably.

Jareth leant back with a sigh "You look about as cheerful as I feel." He remarked wearily.

He was silent for a moment "I was fine before she came along." He conveniently ignored the facts that he had had an Identity Crisis and it was indeed _him _who had dropped back into her life (except he hadn't really dropped, he'd more poofed in. But you don't use that word near the Goblin King and live to tell about it - issues).

Some guilty thought had wormed its way into his mind bearing the uncomfortable truths. Jareth snarled and punched the arm rest of his throne. Wendle glanced up irritably, his expression clearly conveying 'If you're going to have a temper tantrum would you _please _do somewhere I can't hear you and feel horrendous pain?' His actually thoughts were much simpler, but it relates the general gist of it.

Beb wandered in, wondering with concern where Wendle had got to, and if the King had someone punished him for the kind of usurpation. A sadistic part of him kind of wished Wendle was hanging by his heels somewhere in one of the dungeons.

Beb paused when he saw the two miserable occupants of the room. He almost turned and left, but a little voice called his conscience prompted him to do something. He was really beginning to hate that voice.

He trotted up to the them wearily. "Anything the matter, Majesty?" he asked dutifully.

Jareth shot him a sardonic look that plainly said 'Isn't it rather obvious? Do I need to wear a sign?'

After a moments pause, he replied shortly "I'm…fine."

Beb sighed and settled down at the foot of the throne, shifting away from the slightly queasy looking Wendle. There was a quiet minute of contemplation.

"…Would…you like to talk, Majesty?" Beb spoke haltingly, half cringing in an expected rebuke – a firm boot to the backside.

He looked up, tentatively, only to see Jareth's even stare on him. "Hm…You're a surprise." The Goblin King said unexpectedly. "Actually have a brain cell."

"I like to think so, Majesty." Beb didn't like to mention that said brain cell was considering retirement.

Jareth leant back thoughtfully "I've got myself into a bit of mess. Immortals and mortals aren't supposed to…like each other. You know how much trouble a relationship would cause?"

Beb sniffed, thinking he wasn't exactly the best goblin to ask, as goblins really didn't consider relationships.

Jareth continued on "And I'm not even entirely sure what she feels." He slouched on the throne, one booted foot swinging lazily off the side.

Beb relaxed, thinking that maybe Jareth just wanted to rant without terribly much input from him. And from Wendle…well, that was a little too much to expect. He was snoring gently, sprawled in an ungainly way over the stone paving.

However, the prolonged silence that followed Jareth's statement proved Beb's hopeful conjecture completely wrong.

"And you, Majesty, what do you feel?" he asked wearily.

"I think…I might…be falling in love her." Jareth said quietly, coming to a realization.

The beauty of the moment was somewhat spoilt by Wendle waking up and vomiting over Jareth's boots.

* * *

"Hello dear." Sarah's grandmother smiled malevolently. "We were just talking about you."

Sarah stood stock still, very reminiscent of a rabbit in headlights. Toby quietly tugged on her hand "Lets go to the sofa." He muttered quietly.

Sarah nodded and tried to smile. It came out like someone was physically pulling her face into grim baring of teeth.

They sat down, and the only sound was the ticking of the clock on the mantelpiece.

"Margaret, would you like some…some tea!" asked Karen nervously, shifting in her seat with a falsely bright smile.

Sarah's grandmother swiveled her narrowed eyes onto Karen "As long as it isn't like the filth you made last time." She said archly.

Margaret sniffed and ignored Karen's apologies that she didn't know that Margaret so _detested_ Earl Grey tea (the aforementioned filth had been thrown out of the window – complete with teacup- on the last visit). Karen left the room hurriedly before she could be condemned further.

"So, Sarah," the elderly harpy turned her attention to her granddaughter "Where's that mother of yours, hey?"

Sarah blinked "Well, she's in New York doing a play at the moment."

"Always thought she was no good. Too flighty that one."

Robert gasped "Er, mother, I think that's a little…"

"Are you any better? What do you work as again? A secretary?" Margaret ruthlessly cut off her son.

"I'm a psychiatrist." Said Sarah shortly, some part of her brain wishing she had a gun. Whether it was to turn on herself or another was still under debate.

"Ah, one of those brain prodders."

"Well, actually I don't work _directly_ with brains…" Sarah answered automatically.

She suddenly noticed the silence, and the death glare she was receiving from the large expanse of evil sitting in the armchair.

"I'll have no lip from _you _young lady. Why, at your age I was always quiet and respectful to my elders and betters."

"TEA!" came the sudden almost manic shout from Karen, who entered with a tray. "Anyone for tea?"

A small truce was called while the tea was duly sipped. However, the time of peace did not last long.

Margaret smiled indulgently at Toby "Little Toby…growing up to be fine boy." As if to illustrate a contrast, her eyes drifted over to Sarah.

"Sarah…have you got a man yet? At this rate, you'll be an old maid! How many years until thirty? Hm?"

Sarah's eye twitched violently but she controlled herself with great effort from picking up a nearby candlestick and hurling it at the venerable old lady while screaming obscenities.

She answered blandly "Yes, I am seeing someone." Honestly, even if she hadn't seen a male in ten years and had been stranded on a desert island with only a charismatic football for company, she would have said yes. Mainly to do with pride.

"…Oh really?" the grandmother leaned forward (dipping her jumper into her tea in the process) "Who is this chap then?" she said suspiciously, as if she half suspected Sarah might be lying.

Sarah considered the truth 'Well…he's of indeterminate species, way older than me – immortal, in fact, he steals babies for a living, and has a kingdom which is easy to get lost in. Plus he has some very strange subjects, which are actually goblins. And you know, the first time we met I was fifteen and had just wished away Toby! Heh!'

She wisely decided against being entirely truthful.

"Yeah…he's…" she started fluently.

Jareth suddenly appeared in front of her. "Sarah, there is something I need to talk to you about." He demanded, ignoring everyone else in the room.

"…Here…" Sarah finished weakly.

* * *

Sorry for the long delay, just recently had exams. Honestly, I think they derive a malicious pleasure from putting us under constant stress and watching us break...

Anyway! On a happier note, I think this is the longest chapter I've done! (Please don't mention its not particularly noticable - I have a short attention span, I struggle). Penultimate chapter, as well.

THANKS to...mcfly85, luniepoo, Kadasa-Mori, LODOWN, goodmorningstarshine, Midnight Lady, LabyLvrPhx, Casseeinamirror, Lady of the Labyrinth and letylyf! Lovely people :)

Review, or I shall take ye spleens.

...Oh wait, apparently thats a illegal nowadays. Shucks.


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

There was an obligatory period of stunned silence in the room, as the brains of three of the occupants worked furiously to try and work out exactly _how _that man had appeared. Their thoughts were mainly the ever popular 'How-? What the-? _Who-_? HOW did he-? WHAT is the meaning of life?'

In all truth, they were not very close to working out the answers to any of their burning questions. Especially the meaning of life.

Karen was torn between an inexplicable joy that Sarah had found 'a guy' and a natural parental horror at his outlandish clothing. That, and the fact that her eyes kept being drawn to the general area of Jareth's rear ('_pert…so pert…'_)

It was, then, perhaps a good thing that everyone else was busily occupied while Karen struggled with her inner moral dilemmas.

Sarah and Jareth were staring at each other. Sarah's fixed gaze was a more frozen 'Oh God, how the _hell _am I going to explain this?' kind. Meanwhile her thoughts threw out improbable explanations, often involving very odd things. Some theories ran to complexity, for example that Jareth part of a military experiment on camouflage invisibility; while others were simpler. Simpler, as in denying that Jareth was there at all.

Jareth was watching Sarah thoughtfully, a strangely serious look in his eyes. He seemed unaware that he was being watched, or indeed causing some people to question the rules of their existence.

Finally, ominously, Margaret recovered from her surprise.

"And just who," she spoke in a quelling tone, fixing a martial eye on the couple "Is this?"

Jareth seemed to notice the others for the first time; he glanced around in mild interest. He and Sarah broke eye contact. Sarah realized just what was at her eye level, and stood up quickly, flushing.

Jareth turned around to look at the old woman.

"Sarah," he said in a voice of great patience "You can never just make things _easy, _can you?" He sighed, looking put upon.

Margaret nodded sagely "She's a difficult girl." She stirred her tea, still gazing on the two like a searchlight.

Sarah gaped, and resisted a strong urge to comment inanely on the unfairness of the situation.

Jareth raised an eyebrow but said nothing, and Robert Williams took the opportunity to step in.

"Excuse me, how did you get in?" he demanded, standing. He realised in a moment of chagrin that Jareth was taller than him.

Jareth sighed "Why of all times did you have to visit your family now?" he spoke to Sarah, and snapped his fingers.

Robert slumped back down onto the sofa, as did Karen and Toby. And a nearby cat named Mr Snuggles fell off the garden fence.

Sarah jumped in shock, her eyes wide, as she noticed. "Oh my God, what did you do? Are they alright?" she asked weakly.

Jareth rolled his eyes "Of course, they're just asleep." He paused "I think." He covertly tried to reassure himself they were breathing.

Sarah noticed Margaret was still awake and staring, her normally evil gaze toned down with shock.

"Um, Jareth?" She touched his wrist, and he came out of his contemplation of Sarah's inert family. He looked up to see the troublingly conscious grandmother.

His eyes were drawn to the small silver spoon her knarled fingers were clutching.

Jareth sighed again "What is it with you mortals and iron?" he asked aggrievedly.

Sarah frowned "'You mortals'? Well, I just happen to be one of those absurdly iron obsessed mortals, thank you very much!" she snapped.

Jareth pinched the bridge of his nose with a gloved finger. "Sarah…" he said wearily while thinking '_Oversensitive much…'_ He was just lucky Sarah couldn't read minds.

"I demand to know what is going on!" Margaret seemed to have regained her composure at least.

Jareth sketched a quick mocking bow "Certainly m'am. Your granddaughter is infuriating." He said sarcastically.

Margaret smiled with a bitter twist of her lips "She probably gets it from her mother. She's stubborn to a fault, and flighty, touchy too."

Sarah sank down (of her own volition) onto the sofa again next to her snoring brother. _This is just great_, she thought absently, the Goblin King and her grandmother were having a nice cosy chat about the moral failings of her character while seemingly ignoring her presence in the room. She decided to remedy this "I am here!" she hissed to Jareth.

"Yes, I know that, darling." Came the composed reply.

Sarah fumed quietly, trying to take the mature approach. "Why are you here? You could have waited until I wasn't in a room full of people!"

"I needed to see you." Jareth turned around to look at her. "And it's not my fault you're in a room full of people!" he added defensively.

Sarah glared back "Well?" she demanded "What is it?" Her glaring was almost reminscent of the evil of her grandmother. It was a good job Sarah couldn't see herself.

Jareth paused, and opened his mouth as if to speak. After another moment, he closed it again. "Hm." She said informatively. He was beginning to feel the pressure of being the centre of attention of both Sarah and Margaret. The pressure could roughly approximated to the pressure felt while being at the bottom of the deepest ocean trench, or getting married, or in a really nasty vacuum. Jareth had never been in any of the situations, but he would probably find them preferable.

Sarah, meanwhile, was still feeling snappy. She sighed in an aggravated fashion.

Margaret looked at both them and snorted with an 'honestly-young-people-nowadays' attitude strongly prevalent.

Jareth tried again "Sarah…"

She looked up, surprised at his serious tone, her anger fading.

Jareth grinned uneasily "I think…I'm cured of my Identity Crisis!" he suddenly declared.

Sarah stood up and brought an unconvincing smile to her face "That's really good. I guess you don't need a psychiatrist anymore. It was…good, working with you. Anyway," she shook hands with him quickly "I should go. I have to…wash my hair. And do work, and eat….my goldfish." She paused reflectively "I'll just go now."

She left.

Jareth and Margaret were left in an awkward silence.

Margaret stirred her tea and looked at Jareth. He was frozen in place it seemed. Her eyes narrowed "You know, I think she was expecting a little more than that. I sensed a slight feeling of disappointment."

Jareth turned to her "Oh, shut up." He said darkly and disappeared.

She turned into a pineapple.

Sarah's family began to wake up. Toby was first, and he looked around blearily.

"Oh my God!" he cried, glancing around quickly. "They're all gone!" his eyes rested on where Margaret had been sitting. He shifted uneasily, that pineapple had a definite sense of evil emanating from it.

And poor Mr Snuggles had a headache.

* * *

Jareth was back in the throne room again, taking part in what was rapidly becoming a time consuming pursuit of his, brooding.

Wendle was at his feet again, except he had got over his hangover and deriving enjoyment from watching a small beetle scuttle across the floor.

Beb wandered in with an air of one with an unavoidable fate, or a martyr. "Majesty, I take it did not go as expected."

Jareth laughed bitterly "Yes, you could say that."

Beb stepped on the beetle. Wendle's large eyes filled with tears, he opened his mouth to bawl…Jareth watched with amazement as Beb seemed to divein slow motion to clamp his paw over Wendle's mouth.

"Do go on Majesty." Said Beb cordially, as if he wasn't holding a struggling goblin.

Jareth sighed with an air of having seen such things before. "She was with her family, I hardly wanted to divulge my feelings in front of her _grandmother_." Jareth spared a pained moment to think '_Since when did a goblin become by romantic advisor?'_

Wendle struggled free with an indignant squeak, and tackled Beb.

Jareth, however, did not notice. He continued to talk "I need to talk to her somewhere private…In the Aboveground it is far too crowded."

Beb, rolling around on the floor trying to fend off Wendle, threw in a quick "Quite so sir!"

He stood up, stepping down the steps (and overthe fighting goblins)thoughtfully. His arms were crossed, but he lifted one hand to tap at his cheek with a finger.

"I should bring her here…Being in my own environment will be easier."

Beb sat on Wendle decisively, trying to ignore the small fists hitting his side. "I'm sure she will appreciate some romance sir."

"YOU KILLED BEEEEETLE!"

Jareth turned around in amusement "I'm taking advice from a beetle murderer then?"

Beb laughed nervously "I didn't see it there, Majesty." He mumbled. Wendle finally quieted, having seen a chicken wander past. A vacant smile lit his face and he wandered after it "Flaminga." He burbled.

Beb and Jareth watched Wendle go with the same expression, that is, wondering how Wendle had survived this long.

Both shook their heads, then Jareth looked decisive. "Beb, I think I may need some help from you…"

* * *

...Ok, I lied. This is isn't the last chapter. Plus, sorry for the slight delay...Alright, it wasn't that slight. Sorry about that.

Hope this chapter is okay. ANYWAY...thanks and cookies to luniepoo, Solea, Kadasa-Mori, casseeinamirror, a big fan, mord-sith rahl, midnight lady, Wildpixiechild, snip-snippet, morrigana, sorekai, labylvrphx, psyco101,alexis winn, lady of the labyrinth, Princess of the Underground, kitty kat, the amazing aliano, ladyalira, darth cooper, ylang ylang stardust, lady kiren, digifox86, kittykat04, darkforces, heartless romantic, fuschiafinn and goodmorning starshine (I can honestly say noone's ever written me a nursery rhyme before!). You guys are great! Ok, moving on before I get teary and emotional.

Review please! Or this time...I might take your left kidney.


	17. Chapter 17

Quick update, or this hasn't been updated for so long I can't remember what happened: Jareth gatecrashed the family party, sent Sarah's family to sleep then had a showdown with Sarah's grandmother. All this resulted in Jareth not telling Sarah what he had wanted to, and she left. Grandmother got turned into a pineapple. Jareth decided to bring Sarah back to the Underground. A beetle got killed. Still want to read?

Oh, and Ye be warned: there be swearing. Yar.

**Identity Crisis**

**Chapter 17**

Beb sighed, and reflected on the sad fact that he seemed to spend most of his life sighing at one thing or another. He also thought about how he always seemed to end up with - to put it bluntly – the shit end of the stick. It had appeared that Jareth's request for help actually meant 'You do all the hard work while I flounce off and do nothing, and in the end reap the benefits, _there's_ a good goblin'.

Beb sighed once more. Beb had been left to organize the meal that very night, while Jareth went to fetch the mortal. Taking a deep breath he shouted "Icarus! Icarus Dainzaiger Wumpful!" There was a spectacular moment of the complete silence of non-response. "Icky?" Beb tried, weakly.

Icky popped out from behind a nearby statue of a pig "Yessir?" he saluted. "What's the matter?" He stepped over a prostrate Wendle, who was lying on the floor looking at his hand and apparently finding it fascinating.

Beb told it to him straight. "The King is in love with a mortal, and we've got to arrange a meal so he can tell her and stop moping around." There was a random exclamation of "King!" from the aforementioned Wendle.

Icky scratched his arm "Eh?"

The other goblin sighed "We've got to cheer the King up."

"Save our cheerless King!"

"…Yes. Icky, do you know who is on primary cooking duty tonight?" Beb asked.

Icky looked like he was pondering deeply, but the chances of him actually pondering deeply were slim. Tapping a claw on his rusty breastplate thoughtfully, he gave a Beb a shock when he jumped up suddenly. He fished around in his pockets (of which there were many, the seamstress was a little enthusiastic that day). The whole process took around ten minutes. Suddenly, with a satisfied noise, he picked out a small, rather filthy piece of parchment. He squinted at it "Wanda? And Arx, I fink." He blinked at it once more.

Beb sniffed, and delicately removed it from Icky's stubby fingers. He tried to decipher the writing. But what he read was not good. "Wendle and Marx." He stated resignedly. Wendle stirred at the mention of his name and smiled vacantly, giving a little wave.

Icky nodded vigorously "Yessir, yessir." His overlarge helmet closed with a resounding clang.

Beb's eye twitched "Oh, bog." He said thickly, completely ignoring the dazed Icky wandering around blindly behind him. Icky's trajectory was eventually stopped by him falling out of a nearby open window.

Wendle, as well as having the attention span and brain power of a wooden spoon, was notoriously bad at cooking. Most of the goblins in the castle were resigned to going hungry on the night Wendle was on the roster, as they chanced the risk of food poisoning. _Severe _food poisoning.

It wasn't as if he could rely on Marx either. Marx, in short, was a raging socialist goblin. No one was quite sure how he became a raging socialist goblin. But aside from that, if he had to do any cooking for the King, it would most likely end up being lethal.

He was currently colouring in some pamphlets with crayons.

_Therefore_, Beb concluded, something else would have to be done. He thought for a moment, and then swung round.

"…Icky?"

The other seemingly sane occupant of the room was Marx, who was scribbling furiously in the corner. The rest of the goblins were playing pile on each other, not a terribly intellectual game. Beb sidled over, "Erm, Marx?"

Marx looked up "Yes?" he inquired aggressively. Beb blinked "You haven't happened to have seen Icky around have you?" he asked politely.

Marx sniffed "He fell out of the window." He said.

Beb stared at him wide-eyed. "Oh."

"That one. That window over there." Marx pointed with a clawed finger for further clarification. Beb made to leave, and absentmindedly accepted the pamphlet that Marx shoved into his hand. He ran over to the window, hardly registering a proclamation of "Freedom, brother!" from Marx.

He leant out of the window, to see Icky getting up with difficulty. He caught sight of Beb and waved cheerily "Icky fine! Soft landing!" he called, he motioned towards the ground. Beb almost chuckled aloud on catching sight of a very pissed off Kip flattened on the floor.

He moved back thoughtfully. If the King could delegate, perhaps so could he…

"No." Said Kip sourly, then winced and rubbed his tender backside. Beb rolled his eyes "You're part of ROTK aren't you?"

Kip gave him a filthy look from his position on the floor of the throne room, where he was resting his bruised bones "And here I was thinking that SOCK could take care of everything."

Beb was just about the sigh, but stopped himself just in time. His plan was simple, but Kip was being difficult.

"Look, all I want you to do is go Aboveground and get some human food, how hard can it be? The King needs a meal for tonight, for two. I don't think the others would be able to make anything very impressive. He needs you Kip."

Icky walked over "Icky will go. The King needs our help!" He struck a noble pose, and his helmet clanged shut again.

He embarrassedly popped it back up, shaking the stars from his vision. Beb stood sadly, shaking his head "Come on Icky, Kip is too lazy to help."

Kip growled "I know what you're doing."

"What _would _the rest of ROTK think?" Beb continued sorrowfully. Icky grinned "Terrible, terrible." He said in a singsong tone, catching on.

Kip scrambled up, still frowning "I _still _know what you're doing!" He sulked for a minute, and then stood a little straighter.

"The King requested this himself, you say? ...Very well then." Kip capitulated, then had the sudden feeling he'd just made a big mistake.

Beb, with a rather frightening large grin on his face, soberly wished them good luck.

* * *

Sarah was busy. She was _very _busy, and therefore had no time to think about anything other than what she was working on. She couldn't think of _anything _else, especially not that irritating urge to cry. 

Her thoughts stopped short, and she bitterly threw her pen across the room. She sat stock still for a moment, gazing at the darkened window, seeing only her own reflection. Then her face crumpled. She pillowed her head with her arms on the table and sobbed.

After releasing her pent-up emotions for a good half hour, she sat up straight rather self consciously, and then went and brewed herself a coffee.

She stood in her kitchen, sipping the almost illegally strong coffee; she thought it was about time that she admitted some things to herself. And not just about the caffeine addiction.

She already knew that she was attracted to Jareth, and had thought that was all. But then she hadn't been crying about any spilt milk (she took her coffee black anyhow). It seemed her emotions were more involved than she had first thought. And…she wasn't sure if Jareth considered her anything more than passing entertainment. She felt drained, and...Really, _really _hungry.

Sniffling a little still, she shuffled over to her cupboards, deep in thought. She began to rummage through them.

"Hungry?" a voice purred.

Sarah screeched in shock and threw the pack of cereal she had been holding in the general direction of the voice.

Once she registered it was Jareth, her thoughts went quicksilver fast to the _state of her face_, all red and swollen from crying. She ducked behind her arms, catching a glimpse of an utterly bewildered Jareth with Cheerios adorning his hair, while rather adorable; he was the last person she wanted to see.

"Don't look at me!" she hissed. Jareth blinked, staring at Sarah cowering before him. She peeked at him again, and wafted one of her hands impatiently in the direction of the living room. "Go! Go in there! I'll be out in a minute!" she commanded.

Jareth, wondering at her near perfect ability to always do the unexpected, backed into the living room. He sat down awkwardly.

Meanwhile Sarah had dashed into her bathroom, and quickly splashed cold water over her face, wincing at the temperature. She made a stop in her bedroom, where she brushed her hair and then looked despairingly at the reflection in the mirror. She was wearing a scruffy but comfortable pair of pants and a slightly too large tee shirt. Plus it might suggest something if came back _too _dressed up. She sighed, and realised that she'd probably kept him waiting long enough. She paused, and looked at her window sill, where the sloth had just reached and was calmly devouring her plant. She squeaked and moved out.

She trotted through to the living room with a sense of resignation. Jareth was sitting on the sofa; apparently she had been gone long enough for him to get bored. He was juggling a few crystals, but he disappeared them as soon as she arrived. She smiled self consciously and sat down on the other end of the sofa. "Jareth," she said softly, gravely, and he found himself gazing at her, annoyingly like a lovesick puppy.

She smiled demurely "There is a sloth in my bedroom."

Jareth was wondering whether that was some sort of innuendo when she stood up briskly "Now, could you send it to a zoo or something? It's rather unnerving having a creature in my bedroom." She said matter-of-factly.

Jareth stood also, but caught her shoulder in a loose grip. She turned in surprise to find him towering over her in height, and managing to look imposing with some cheerios still remaining in his hair. "Sarah, you would do well to remember I am not _pest control_." He said darkly.

Sarah raised her chin, determined not to be intimidated "And I'm not a zoo!" Not the snappiest or even remotely witty comeback ever said, but it worked.

Jareth sighed and concentrated for a moment. "There, it is back to what it originally was." He paused for an almost dignified moment "A lampshade." He said, in a manner of a man conscious of the fact he has just said something completely ridiculous.

Sarah just smiled gratefully, and sat down. A tricky maneuver, considering her shoulder was still being held by Jareth. After a second's hesitation, he sat down too.

"So, why are you here?" she asked, her concentration being sidetracked by Jareth gently stroking her wrist.

"Well, I wanted to talk to you."

"Hmm…" He had now started to massage her tense shoulders.

"So, I thought, you might as well come to my castle."

"Mmm…" There was a quiet moment when the news slowly sank in "What?"

He shot her a dazzling smile, and grasped her hand in a firm grip. She gazed at him "No, you are not…You wouldn't dare…"

They disappeared.

* * *

"Excuse me, sir, could you please tell us…?" Kip sighed as the third mortal they'd asked walked off rapidly, mumbling about medication. 

Icky was looking a little bored by this point, and was humming airily. Kip sat down on the curbside under the streetlight despairingly, and ran a paw over his face "This is hopeless." He groaned.

Icky sat down next to him "What 'bout the King?" he said, holding a fisted paw by his heart. "He needs us!"

Kip raised an eyebrow "Yes, very nice. Now, let's go back."

The other goblin frowned and pouted "Icky will not ignore his duty!"

Kip stood up, and dusted himself off. Straightening his posture, he marched over to the nearest person. The man was hefting several white plastic bags with single minded determination down the street.

The goblin strode over and tugged on the man's trousers "Excuse me, sir." He said menacingly.

The man stopped dead, and stared at Kip like he was some sort of alien subterranean creature of fantastical imaginings. This was surprisingly accurate.

"Uh…" he said helpfully.

Kip turned around and scowled at Icky. "That's it!" he exclaimed almost hysterically "I am going back. I can't TAKE this anymore!"

The man was looking around, a little jerkily it must be said, as if anyone else was seeing the alien subterranean creature of fantastical imaginings having a nervous breakdown next to his leg.

Kip was stalking away, and looking helpless, Icky tottered after him. The man, feelings stirring in his chest of reminiscence, of lessons spent staring out of the window dreaming of other things, shouted "Wait!"

They both stopped, and turned around.

* * *

Beb examined the white bag interestedly, while Icky chattered on in the background about the Aboveground. Kip was looking rather smug. 

"Icarus, _do _be quiet for a moment. As I was saying, I managed to negotiate with the mortal for some of their produce." He said, buffing his nails on his shirt.

Beb dove a paw into the bag, and pulled out a large box. It had a picture of some kind of orange flakes in what Beb assumed was milk. "You reckon they eat this?" he asked doubtfully.

Icky wandered over, and looked inquisitively at a box with a picture of soup on the front. "Whasiss?" he muttered. "Soup should be runny." He said wonderingly, shaking it next to his ear.

However, it seemed he would never find out the solution to the mystery, as a loud indignant shriek echoed through the hallway.

Beb looked thoughtful, "You know, I think we'd better start getting this stuff ready."

Meanwhile, in the dining room, the guest had arrived. And she wasn't in the best of moods. Sarah huffed and stumbled away from Jareth, crossing her arms defensively. He smiled serenely, moving a step closer.

Sarah's eyes widened, and she held out her hands as if to ward him off (about as effectively as shooing a hungry lion). "No. No, no and _no._" she said in an authoritative voice. "I'm _annoyed_."

His intense expression changed suddenly, and his whole demeanor became casual. He turned away to look at the doorway almost absently "You're right. We should eat first."

Sarah blinked, and suddenly felt a little underdressed for the occasion. Jareth, she noticed, had managed to change his clothes somehow on the way to the castle. He was magnificently attired in blue. An almost familiar blue outfit…She remembered, and bit her lip.

Rubbing her arms, she moved to a nearby seat, a large affair made of mahogany and smooth red leather. Jareth noticed her movement, and with a suave politeness he gave a quick bow "I will return presently. Please do take a seat."

She scowled and sat down. In the face of his sudden change of mood, her thoughts became introspective.

Pensively, her fingers traced the twisted carve of the arm; the grain was smooth under her touch. She glanced up, surveying her surroundings, trying not to think too much about _him_. The room was lit rather poorly by flickering candles, set in brackets on the wall. It was painted a deep red; the shadowed portions seemed almost black. The mirrored sheen of the table reflected the dim light in swirls. There were two covers laid, each with an almost obscene number of silver cutlery, ranging from the large to ridiculously small.

She was pondering what the smallest, tiniest fork could possibly be used for (a very small egg? grapes?) when a slight thumping sound caught her attention. She sat up straight "Jareth?" she asked.

She shrieked when something, or someone, grabbed the leg of her trousers. She leapt up, and there was a screech from under the table. A hand over her racing heart, and with wide eyes she stepped forward and peered under the table.

Hesitant bulbous eyes stared back at her. Sarah blinked "Um, hello?" she said gently.

Wendle scrambled out from under the table, and Sarah sat down slowly. "So, what's your name?" she asked, after a period of uncomfortable silence.

The goblin frowned, and was silent for about a minute. "Wendle!" he said finally, looking pleased. With a nod, he plopped down on the floor.

Sarah, having never had terribly much practice at conversing with goblins (some might say there was the small excuse of having her baby brother to rescue at the time), allowed the silence the stretch on.

Wendle picked his nose thoughtfully.

Sarah felt a little reluctant to interrupt, and so the silence stretched on. And on, it missed the awkward turn off and carried straight down the freeway, past the sign 'to excruciatingly painful silence'. However as Wendle had a thick barrier of pure and simple unawareness, he was fine.

Wendle, had he considered actually doing anything with his life, would have been excellent at extracting information from people.

Finally when Sarah had got to the stage when she was wondering whether the smallest, tiniest fork could be used for suicide, Wendle looked up.

"What are you?" he asked, squinting at her. Sarah smiled thoughtfully, "I'm a human." She explained. Wendle stared at her blankly. "Worm?" he questioned.

There was a pause as Sarah realised just how difficult her task was. The feeling was comparable to standing at the bottom of Everest.

"Mortal?" she said weakly.

Wendle frowned. Within his tiny mind something was happening. Dusty synapses sparked and in the dim recesses of his memory, something stirred.

"_The King is in love with a mortal, and we've got to arrange a meal so he can tell her and stop moping around."_

Beb's dry voice echoed in his mind. Now, an interesting fact to note about Wendle, not that he knew it of course, was that in some respects he was like a Dictaphone. Not in the small electronic gadget respect, but that he had a sort of recording memory. However like a Dictaphone he lacked the processing power to make anything of it, he was just about able to repeat what he had heard. This talent sometimes led him to say very odd things, but mainly he just said odd things because he was an odd goblin. A few times, his talent had got him into trouble. An example was the time when he gaily told the troll emissary what the King really thought of him ('King says you have a face like a bottom!')

Wendle blinked. "King's in loves wiv' a mortal." He cheerily exclaimed.

Sarah gasped, her eyes widening. "Excuse me?" she squeaked in disbelief.

It was just unfortunate that Jareth took the opportunity to enter the room, in time to hear Wendle's exclamation. His eyes widened.

If it had been awkward before, this went way beyond.

A staid goblin woman who apparently noticed nothing ambled in. She gently but firmly moved Wendle out of the way, and went about putting plates on the table. She returned to her trolley, and took out two bowls. Within the bowls was some cuppa soup powder with some parsley thoughtfully put on the top. She placed them on the table.

Then with the same detached professionalism, she hefted the yawning Wendle onto the trolley. She wheeled it out, and the sound of the squeaking wheels gradually got fainter. Jareth closed his eyes briefly and went to shut the door.

Sarah moved over to her place and sat down. She gazed at the soup powder in some bemusement.

"You know," she began conversationally "Some people think they have odd days when three cats sit on their front porch."

Jareth blinked, and sat down. "Sarah, are you feeling quite alright?" he asked guardedly, in a soothing tone.

She looked up with a rueful smile "Sorry. Just…a little shell shocked I guess." She glanced down "And the soup seems to be lacking liquid." It occurred to Sarah that perhaps she was avoiding the issue. She just had to be thankful that she hadn't started on a tangent about anything else.

Jareth leant back, tapping his fingers on the table. "I'm sorry you had to find out that way. From an imbecilic goblin, I mean." He said quietly.

Sarah looked at him searchingly, then smiled waveringly "Oh, _Jareth._" she said half laughing, half a sob. He stood up gracefully, and slowly walked over to her.

She sniffed, and watched him approach.

He reached her, and held out a hand. Sarah wiped her eyes and took his hand.

Pulling her up, he slid an arm around her waist. She stiffened but accepted his embrace. He stroked her tear-stained face gently. Chuckling in a watery fashion, she muttered "Sorry, I have over-active tear ducts." He shushed her, stroking her hair. They remained that way for a few minutes.

Sarah sighed and pulled back, feeling a little more settled. "Jareth…How to put this…" She saw the slight expression of alarm cross his face "No, not that!" she said quickly.

Taking a deep breath, she started again "It isn't that the sentiment isn't returned. I think I released that today, when I was crying all over my patient's files. I was so sad that I wouldn't see you again, now that you've recovered from you identity crisis."

"About that…"

"No, let me finish. I was worried that you didn't feel anything back. Then, there are all those issues of you being a King of another land, and me being a psychiatrist with a goldfish named Ted."

"…Ted?"

"Yes, he's called Ted. Now, where was I? Yes, anyway, I knew then that somewhere along the line, from you barging into my office to you barging into my family gathering, I'd started to feel something for you, despite the identity crisis."

"Yes, about that…"

She interrupted him. "Jareth, I think…that despite everything, all the difficulties, I feel, well, _happy_ with you. And, I want to keep that feeling." She smiled at him tremulously.

Without answering, the Goblin King kissed her. He stroked her hair, and chastely kissed her forehead. "Thank you Sarah. I agree completely." He murmured. Sarah grinned, and hugged him fiercely. Jareth laughed rather breathily (most of his air having been forced out of his lungs), and tugged at her hair gently to gain better access to her mouth.

Suddenly, as if a thought just occurred to him, he moved back. "Sarah, there is…there's something I haven't told you."

Her face fell, and her brain ploughed up images of seventeen children, six mistresses and a gay lover.

He held her close, and whispered "I don't think I'm quite over my identity crisis. I turned your grandmother into a pineapple."

She smiled against his chest. "Oh, that's alright then."

**_Finis_**

* * *

Wow. It's done. Can't believe it. Hope you didn't choke on all the fluff. Sorry for the delay, which at times seemed less like _delay_ and more like _oh my god will I ever finish it_. Hope this chapter is okay; it's like, my longest ever. It's been a long ride, I must say. Okay, this is beginning to turn into a weepy Oscar acceptance speech. I'd better stop soon. But this has been fun, and I hope it's been fun for you too! By the way, if I forgot to disclaim 'I don't own Labyrinth'. But I'd like to think Beb, Wendle and the others are mine :) 

Ooh, before I forget, a huuuge thank you to everyone who's read and reviewed! I was going to do a great big list of all the names but my courage (and motivation) fails me!

Now, the million dollar question.

Epilogue?


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